Parallel Worlds
by fabulous1
Summary: Evey is the new owner of the gallery, but she is left with the memory of an idea she never knew. The post fifth world has a powerful, faceless enemy that could change the meaning of life...and death forever.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. V for Vendetta characters are not mine.

**Parallel Worlds**

"It's time…"A voice said, as the sound of the metal leaver engaging metal could be heard. "Tell me Mr. Finch. Do you like music?"

_An exhale of air. Deep from within and beyond hearing distance. He didn't hear Finch answer. Footsteps faded and the subway train doors closed. He had heard those doors many times before, but this time there was a sense of urgency to them. And the music, his music, sounded in his head and disappeared; replaced by the systematic sound of the train gaining momentum on its tracks._

Evey walked with Finch to the lift allowing him to push the red button to summon it. He hadn't seen a lift of this type in years and he hoped it would be safe. As the lift came to its destination and clanked in front of them, the doors slid open. Evey hesitated just enough to let Finch know she felt the same apprehension.

She seemed so lost in thought as if her whole world had died. It had. She lost the only people who mattered in her life, and yet she felt a powerful sense of strength like everything would be all right somehow. V gave that strength to her. An inner peace. That last inch.

The doors closed as the lift started to rise.

_He rose to sit up right._

Finally coming to a standstill, the doors opened to a small hallway with another door at the end. Evey reached for the handle.

_A gloved hand reached for a domino before kicking out the rear fire door of the rolling train. A leap before the train could gain speed, and he was airborne._

"Who was he?" Eric Finch asked as he watched the first explosions take place.

_The mask fell off his face as he landed on the subway ground. Too late to turn back, he stood up and started to run picking up speed, not quite escaping some wind and heat from the first explosions, cape riding high behind him._

"He was Edmond D'Antes." Evey replied with a slight smile.

Finch looked at her from the corner of his eye in disbelief. _Was she losing her mind?_

"He was my father and my mother, my brother. He was my friend. He was you. _He was __me__."_

"_Evey…" He stopped and gasped for air and slid down sideways against the cold, hard tunnel wall._

They watched the fireworks together in silence. Evey observed every momentous second overwhelmed with the significance of what V had done. What _she _had done. _She _blew up Parliament. The skyline would never look the same just as she would never _be _the same. There were bound to be consequences, there always were. Would this make things better, or was she right when she told V that things turn for the worse with change?

"Well, Ms. Hammond, we are going to have a lot to answer for."

_We_? Finch interrupted her thoughts and read her mind at the same time. And although he was older, she liked him a great deal already even though she didn't know him. His eyes reflected a thoughtfulness and sincerity she was not used to seeing anymore. She kept to herself when she was above ground, not having much contact with the outside world. Her only companion had been V and that constant expression. She would have given anything to see that expression again. Her heart ached. She needed to get home, wherever that was, and be alone. She thought of going to the Shadow Gallery but dismissed it. _Too soon_.

Finch took in a long sigh. The fire works subsided and the fire from the explosions smoldered. A large smoke trail cascaded and swirled into the night sky. Left over remains of a government far too long in power.

Finch finally broke a long silence and asked, "Are you feeling cold Ms. Hammond? Can I loan you my coat?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine. I think I just need to be going home." She answered and stared into the sky, glad to be brought back to the present.

"Can I take you there? It's dangerous this time of night Ms. Hammond."

"Thanks, but I'd rather walk."

"I wouldn't suggest that. It's past curf--" He rolled his eyes.

Turning her head to him, she smiled. "Okay. And please call me Evey."

"Fair enough. Let's go." He smiled back at her as best he could. She looked different since he last saw her. Though she shaved her head and appeared thinner, she was still extremely attractive. He would question her in further detail. He wanted to know everything that happened from her point of view. Not that it mattered much any longer, it wasn't as if he was going to arrest her or anything. Mainly just curiosity and she owed him at least that after all of the hunting and searching from the past year. No matter what she said, he still wanted to know the man behind the mask.

It started to drizzle. A car pulled in front of Evey and Finch as they stood on the curb waiting.

The driver. Evey didn't recognize him, but he glared at her as she slid into the back seat. Dark eyes, and dark slicked back hair. He then faced front. She saw the back of his head, but as soon as she closed the car door, and started speaking, she remembered the voice.

"Where to Chief?" Dominic asked without introducing himself to Evey.

Oblivious to the uncomfortable pause, Finch was more interested in what lay on the console.

"I only live a short way from here," Evey chimed in before the inspector had a chance to answer.

Finch lifted the mask in his hand to examine it. He took a deep breath and put it down. This night affected everyone. He needed to sit, have a glass of scotch and pass out.

The silence and uneasiness for the drive was enough to make Evey want to scream. As they stopped at a light, Evey opened the car door. "You can drop me off here, I'll walk the rest of the way." She got out of the car and slammed the door.

Dominic and Finch faced each other. Finch unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door.

"Chief, what are ya doing?" Dominic inquired.

"She's gonna disappear!" He shouted as he bolted and slammed the car door.

Dominic took in a deep breath and pulled over to wait, cursing to himself. He was tired of chasing her. He was tired of the guessing game. After a year of trying to find the weave of the spider's web, he had to be done with this. He wouldn't mind taking it out on some finger-men. _That_ would suit him just fine. Their strength in numbers and arrogance made them so bloody over-confident.

Finch tried to match her speed to a fast walk behind her.

"Miss Hammond!"

She ignored him and kept walking.

"Miss Hammond!"

She walked faster.

"Evey!" He cried out. Finch tried to catch his breath, and privately denied the scotch had any effect on his body.

Evey halted and looked at the ground then turned around to face him.

"Let me walk with you a moment."

"Alright." She nodded.

"I didn't want you to go without finding out where I could reach you."

"Come on. My flat is right up here." She gestured to a storefront second floor apartment.

He followed her. His eyes scanned the brownstone-building front as she unlocked the door. Copying her pace up the stairs, Finch noted the air in the place smelled as if mold settled into the walls.

"Would you like to come in?" They came to a door after they walked down a small hallway.

Finch thought for a moment and felt a wave of embarrassment. He went through her belongings when she was a fugitive. "No, that won't be necessary Evey. It's been a long night. I just wanted to ask you if we could meet sometime for…for"

"What? You want to know about _him_? I have told you as much as I know inspector." He could hear her pain. The sting of her regret. "Please don't make this any more difficult," she said, "I just need some time."

"I understand. You can reach me at this number." He reached into his coat pocket and handed her a card. "If you need anything. Anything at all."

"I'll be in touch." She turned away. "Thank you inspector." She showed eyes that filled with tears.

He nodded away down the stairs.

Evey felt exhausted by the time she opened the door to her small flat; all she wanted to do was sleep. She tossed the keys on the dresser, dropped her bag, and collapsed on the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

The gloom of the morning made its way into her bedroom window giving off a somber light. Evey tried to blink her eyes open and realized she slept late. She would have to call into work and let them know she wouldn't be coming in. The clock on the night table read 11:00AM, meaning she slept through the radio playing for quite some time. No one would be going to work today, and she started to wonder if she even had a job anymore.

Reports of Parliament on fire and the Norsefire overthrow hit the radio waves. Maybe now England could be enlightened with the truth. She listened for a while and sat up rubbing her eyes. Evey headed to the bathroom peered into the mirror. The stress of losing V had shown on her face, her eyes were red and puffy.

She wanted to tell V how she really felt, but now she would never have the chance. Reflecting on their last encounter, she felt helpless again as if she could have done something. _Oh_, V _if only you let me save you. I could've saved you. _

She decided to pull herself together and shower, stopping short as she reached for the water spigot. An intense feeling. Someone was watching her. She looked over her shoulder and glanced around long enough to discard the initial feeling; certain someone had been in the adjacent room. It was eerie how air moved. She turned the shower handle and climbed in. The hot water hit her skin. Once dressed, she left her apartment and grabbed an umbrella. She stuffed it into an overnight bag on the way out hoping for some rain to help her disguise herself for the walk back to the Shadow Gallery.

The streets bustled with people that ran in all different directions. Sirens wailed in the distance, the result of looting with no established government in force. The Shadow Gallery seemed the safest place now, the advantage being the ambiguity of an abandoned train station. No one would think to look there, but she still watched for anyone following her.

Down the old train station entrance to the concourse, it was dark. The scuttling of life that managed to escape the turmoil and the sound of her own footsteps comforted her. The bitter air made her pull her thick sweater around tighter and her large overnight bag closer to her body. _I shouldn't be here yet, it's too soon. S_he was desperate to be near him. Whatever was left of him.

She came to a small alleyway after opening a secret door in the long train tunnel that was once part of Victoria Station. The signs along the tunnel wall spoke of a history long forgotten in the London Underground. The trains and this station were used in WW1 to carry wounded soldiers to and from France. Now, it carried her beloved to a Viking's death and Evey to a place of the unknown. _I shouldn't have let you leave me._

In front of a steel camouflaged door that looked more like the old cement brickwork that was part of the underground, she remembered a code. V told her to punch it into the hidden keypad on the right side of the entrance She lifted the cover and hit V…I…A, confident that the well-protected Gallery was secure from unwanted visitors.

She shook her head and went inside noting a small beeping sound that notified her of the steel latch disengaging. It was not the only trip that went off. The door shut automatically not making a sound and re-locked itself. The long corridor to the gallery became brighter as she entered. _This was his home_. It felt as though she violated him. As if maybe the idea of him being gone was inaccurate.

She put her bag down and went to the Wurlitzer. The soft blue light soothed andwelcomed. Putting her hands on the warm glass, she then laid her head upon it.

Evey's eyes closed as she took in the air and the smells down here, her inner thoughts twisted. She held back tears. There were ways she wanted to express her feelings, but her anger had evoked fear and shut her down. Even when he admitted he fell in love with her before he died, she didn't budge. She was in disbelief as if her torment was incomplete. Now a more punishing, unrelenting torment, she understood her error. _He was right. Evey…you should have listened to him._

She turned her head, opened her eyes, and looked to the way of the kitchen, slowly walking over to it as she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. It was warm and comfortable down here and the air was fresh and clean. V went through extreme measures making sure that the treasures in the Gallery were well preserved, never allowing moisture to accumulate.

Opening the refrigerator, she reached and found some cheese and fresh grapes. She waited too long since her last meal, and started feeling lightheaded. Low blood sugar made her shake lately, probably since she starved in a cell. Her body didn't feel as strong and it would take time to recuperate. The knot in her stomach affected her appetite, but she would have to be more careful or else she would find herself waking on the stone floor. She forced herself to eat, remembering the time spent there. She made a resolve to find out more, and it seemed that for the moment, there was a whole world to know. Spotting the kitchen radio, she stood up to turn it on. Light jazz. Glad for the company, the quiet was too close an acquaintance. Her hunger satisfied, she broke off a large piece of cheese. Then wandered some more. So many beautiful pieces of art displayed, some more vivid in color than others, placed so precisely so as not to diminish the beauty of the other. Her fingers touched some of the statues as she scanned the Gallery and looked closer at the paint strokes and use of color in many of the paintings.

Waterhouse, Picasso, Dali, Warhol. All banned. _God. _

A person could very easily get lost in this place, and be mesmerized by the spell cast from the hearts and minds that created the beautiful artwork in it. She came around to the Steinway standing by itself, extending a hand to touch the finely glossed curly wood as she sat down and opened it to play. Her fingers played awkward at first touching the keys as she played scales, finally playing a G note ringing out of tune. She continued. _Strange…V wouldn't have left this un-tuned. _She closed the keyboard cover in frustration-no one would be able to get to the Gallery to tune it.

There was a hallway in the opposite direction he dismissed himself to when he left her alone to complete his work, or retire for the evening. V gave her hints it was off limits, like the time she tried to follow him through the hallway. He politely turned around, said, "Goodnight Evey," She had felt her face turn red from embarrassment. Mortified, she went in the opposite direction to her room. At the time, she respected his wishes. Never having the nerve to venture further _until now_. She didn't wish to trip some alarm to let V know about her intrusion. Then her secret would be out.

The jazz from the radio in the kitchen diminished in the distance as she approached the corridor. There were quite a few doors, each one different. The hallway remained dark, probably so V could remain elusive and watch her from the shadows. Evey knew he was there most of the time. She tried to decide which door she would open first, and then tried the one closest.

The door opened to a dark room. She felt the left doorframe for a light switch, found none, and went further inside. She could see the outline of a table lamp and turned it on exposing what looked to be a small office with a roll-top desk. The desk must have been antique with its intricate woodwork and craftsmanship. There was also a framed needlepoint hanging on the wall over the desk that she recognized. The picture was reminiscent of a time when she awoke in the late morning to find V sitting on the couch in front of the Tele sewing needlepoint, humming to himself. It was endearing. The picture was a castle on a vast landscape, an original work she assumed, because she never saw one quite like it. She reached up on the wall to touch the intricate picture, as if the feel of the stitching could somehow bring him closer.

Sitting in the far corner were more book piles and a small chaise lounge trimmed with burgundy velvet. _He probably came here to read by himself. _She noticed volumes of informational and reference books, Anatomy, Physiology, Psychology, and books on Human Sexuality.

Through the hall to the other rooms. She cursed wishing for a flashlight. She went across to another larger door and opened it to yet another dark room. This time she had to fumble around for a while until she found a tall candlestick lamp on a small table against the wall closest to the door.

The light exposed a large room with a large antique four-poster bed ornately carved in mahogany. Hanging tassels and small pillows in rich colors adorned the well-dressed bed. The room had an open feel for the lack of furniture, and two closed doors leading in opposite directions. An oversized vase with dozens of Scarlet Carsons made their bright presence in the center of the room. Evey recognized Gustav Klimpt's "The Kiss" on the far wall, along with other original artwork. Paintings of beautiful women lounging, most of them half-naked stood propped in a corner.

She opened the closet, alarmed to see three V's looking at her- masks carefully placed facing outward on a higher shelf. His capes and silk shirts arranged neatly underneath. She touched the fabric of one of the capes, surprised at the softness and fine quality of the cashmere. _Oh, I can smell him_. Holding the cape made her long for him. A deep breath. She shook her head and shut the closet.

The other door was locked. She went through a small night table drawer on the other side of the bed and found three keys on a ring. Walking over to the locked door, she tried all three. It opened for the last one. She placed the keys in her pocket. This time the lights went on as the door opened. Ten monitors flickered to life with dozens of little knobs and switches that lit up. The monitor screens revealed alleyways, the entrance to the gallery, and the train station at different angles, someone's empty room, what looked to be a rooftop, and a couple of monitors showing streets above. She scanned these visions briefly and then thought she recognized something. Her room! It was her flat. _He was watching me- shit!_ The sudden revelation knocked her into the control room chair.

_He saw everything. What does it matter? He's dead._ She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, moving them up to caress her shaved head. _He was protecting you Evey as he always did. He was an honorable man. V would never invade on your privacy. _

_Sleep. I need sleep._

She went to retrieve her belongings in the overnight bag she brought with her. Some soft pajamas and a book. Then Evey went to the kitchen to make herself a peanut butter sandwich. Eating made her reminiscent of the times V made delicious gourmet meals for her. It seemed like long ago she lived here with him. The seclusion down here made her feel like a prisoner and she wondered how V felt being here alone all of the time with no one to talk to. She ate the last bite, grabbed the milk container in the fridge, and took a drink.

Evey turned her attention once more to the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

She walked faster this time through the dark to another set of tall doors. These double doors were set in a large doorframe and rounded high at the top. There were some more of the intricate carvings in the wood and Evey wondered now if their beauty was the work of V himself. She would have to bring a flashlight or candle next time so she could see clearly. Now, she ran her hands over them and felt the wood, becoming more conscious of a light humming sound within. She turned both handles and pushed.

She caught her breath.

The view inside was overwhelming. The room was quite large with high ceilings and full of thousands of brilliant Scarlet Carsons in various stages of growth. They were in long pots atop of long tables, arranged in an orderly fashion. The light humming was the sound of the ultra-violet lighting used to sustain their life. The view was breathtaking and the smell of the room refreshed her senses. _Why did you keep this from me, _V? She walked in and touched one of them._ So beautiful. _

She closed her eyes and turned around to center herself between two tables stretching her arms outward so that her hands could touch the flowers on either side. She felt the rose petals give way to her hands as she moved forward. She felt the sting of a thorn on her middle finger and opened her eyes to examine the small wound. The color of her fresh blood was not unlike the red of the Scarlet Carsons and she understood why V favored them so much. Evey put her finger in her mouth to try to deaden the pain, and her eyes caught sight of another smaller door camouflaged by roses at the far end of the room. She went over and tried to open it. Locked. Remembering the keys in her pocket, she tried one key and it fit on the first try. She was about to reach for the door handle and startled.

"_Evey!"_ Someone shouted her name.

Bolting from the rose room, she headed through the hallway, cautious this time. She scanned the Gallery showroom.

"Shit." She whispered and looked around the room further to investigate the cause. She put the keys in her pocket.

Many times phantom voices disturbed her silence and screamed her name. She wasn't the only person to experience them. All of the time she spent at the reclamation center with the other homeless little girls taught her that. Still, it was suspicious and unnerving, but she tried to shrug it off as a voice in her head and maybe she let the silence of this place get to her. She felt exhausted, and it was time to get dressed. Tomorrow would be a new day and she would try to go back to work to get away.

She undressed in her room putting on soft, warm, pajamas. She scanned the rows of books in her room, looking for nothing in particular, trying to notice the ones closest to the top of each pile. She sighed and put the book searching off for another time. Getting into bed, she slid under the covers, and felt her weary body start to relax. _Maybe tomorrow night I'll sleep in V's bed._ She closed her eyes feeling comforted by the idea and fell asleep. She left the light on.

The chime from the gallery clock told her it was 8:00A.M. Her workday usually started at 9:00, so she got up out of bed and put her clothes on from the previous day. She would have to shower or bathe after work when she was able to retrieve more fresh clothes from her flat. She actually looked forward to work this morning. A cashier at a small grocery, where they sold fruits, nuts, and sundries.

She grabbed her overnight bag before exiting, so she could bring more clothing. Then the notion hit her. Where would she live? She could co-exist in both places, but the gallery was free and she had everything she needed right here. The gallery was hers after all, and it would need a caretaker or curator just as any other museum would. She would have to get used to the loneliness down here, but she could find plenty to do. V managed to keep himself busy for twenty years. Evey ignored her despair and left.

Once outside, the cold air hit her and she was grateful for the heavy sweater. It was bright outside, even though the day seemed more overcast. Curious. The streets looked more deserted than yesterday.

A large piece of paper blew in the wind and stuck to her leg, looking for a lover. She peeled it off her calf and read a headline. "London on Fire! 'City in chaos, as Norsefire is vanquished!' Whereabouts of codename 'V' and his alleged accomplice Evey Hammond still unknown."

Evey crumpled the page, with both hands and looked around for any one recognizing her. She walked with more speed, putting the hood from her sweater over her head. It would take her about a half hour to walk to work every morning. She would have to be careful.

The city had decayed overnight. There was litter everywhere and people rushing as if their lives depended on their quick pace. Some were carrying large items. Broken windows and graffiti marked what looked more and more like a desecrated graveyard instead of the London she once knew. A few more yards, and she turned the corner coming to what was left of the small food store. The windows were broken and the sound of the gale whistling in and out of the empty storefront confirmed its emptiness. A shard of glass hung by a thin piece of metal, giving way to the bustling wind; it made a light chiming noise as it hit the brick on the outside wall. Evey walked in front of the store to peer inside, stepping on glass fragments that littered the pavement.

It was then that she heard screaming in the direction behind her.

A block away, two men were running into an alleyway, the first limped, with an injury. He screamed, not having the chance to look around for help as his pursuer was carrying what looked like a large blade. The two disappeared and the screaming became more intense until finally-s_ilence. _

Unable to help the victim, Evey ran in the opposite direction toward her flat.

Hot tears stung her eyes. _This is not what V wanted._ Two more blocks and she would reach her home in what seemed more like an eternity. She tried to watch her surroundings. Close to her destination, she bumped into someone.

"Oh!" She looked up into the face of Inspector Finch as he grabbed her shoulders.

He knew right away that she was in trouble.

"There…were…two…men and...I think he's dead." She was out of breath and pointing at the same time.

"Go to your place and stay there, I'll be back." He withdrew his firearm and signaled to someone waiting in a car across the street.

Heeding his advice and not looking back, Evey used her keys to open the door. The door closed behind her. She leaned against it coughing, wheezing, and remembering the assault. She ran, not out of fear or dread, but out of anger.

What would her next move be? If she stayed, Finch would question her, and she was not ready to tell him about her whereabouts. She had to move, and wanted to collect enough belongings in case she decided to leave the country. Evey went up to her flat and opened the door, heading for her closet to retrieve a small suitcase. She clicked it open on the bed, and stuffed small amounts of clothing and personal items. The inspector's card was on her night table. Evey tossed it in the suitcase._ I will contact you inspector, just not now._


	4. Chapter 4

She ran down the stairs almost losing her balance and made her escape. It wouldn't be long before Finch came back, so she opened the ground level door and looked both ways before running in the opposite direction Finch went in. She hid in doorframes and alleyways to make sure no one was following. The round-a-bout way to the Gallery would take longer, but it would allow her to remain unnoticed. She ran for a little while and fast-walked the rest of the way, cursing as the forgotten items and necessities came to mind.

It started raining hard; she quickened her pace once more to avoid the torrent, until she reached the protective barrier of Victoria Station. Once inside and down the entrance steps a surprising sense of relief washed over her. _Yes, this is where I belong_ _maybe just until things cool down and I can think of what to do and where to go._

She used the keypad for the entrance to the Gallery again and went inside. It felt warm and safe and more like home than she had ever experienced since the death of her parents. She dried the water from her face with her sleeve and walked further.

The only thing that ever made her want to leave was the idea of being a prisoner. She hated that feeling for reasons she didn't quite understand now that it was all over. V tried to protect them both in the only way he knew. He saved her life more than once and yet she felt trapped and helpless. She did not like to feel controlled or restrained no matter how dangerous things became. In her heart, she was a free spirit living a lie out of fear and submission. Now inside the Gallery, she faced the burden of her existence in the abhorrent world above and the isolation and memories below.

Evey stopped in the middle of the Gallery and fell to her knees. She clutched her abdomen and strained against despair. Tears blurred her vision. She tried to repress them to no avail. Her weeping became inconsolable and ruthless. She was tired of grieving and so irate now that V purposefully left _her_ to deal with this world on her own left _her_ with the residual sting of his revenge, and wailed anew with the understanding. Then stopped and sat motionless staring into the air.

The distant clock ticked in the silence, and joined with the gentle hum from the light fixture on the wall.

Wiping her face dry with her palm, she picked herself up from the stone floor and sat on the piano bench. Her attention went immediately to fumbling with the piano keys and playing scales as best she could. The one piano key in the scale of G, previously out of tune, _now rang perfectly_. She hit it again. It was definitely the one out before. Evey abandoned the perplexity, turned her attention to the hallway. She rose from her seat.

With more time to look around, she remembered to look for a flashlight before going in. After rummaging, she found a small pen light in a kitchen drawer. It was a small amount of light, but it would do. She headed straight for the rose room, but turned on the flashlight beforehand to examine the carved wood doors and frame. It was a story carved into wood.

There was the London skyline in flames and faces of those in awe of what they were visualizing, engulfed by those flames. She touched the image of a woman's face that carried a fearful expression, her hair long with curls that melded into roses, each one larger than the last. The rose vines wrapped intricately around the door in the frame and resembled delicate art instead of a functional entryway. She understood the woman. A representation of herself and the things she witnessed. She snapped off the flashlight.

Closing her eyes, Evey pushed the doors by the knobs. The sound of the lighting and the smell of roses enchanted her once more, this time with a feeling of comfort like an old friend. _Oh the fragrance_. _Intoxicating. Tempting._

Crimson colored velvet curtains guarded something beyond. And pulling one side of the curtains, she let herself in then let the curtain fall behind. Complete darkness. She switched the flashlight beam directly in front.

She was startled to see herself, looking back at herself. The room smelled of turpentine and she slanted her head beholding an oil painting of herself in various transitions. In what looked like a child to womanhood in the facial expression. The likenesses were unbelievably real and so different from one another. The top of the painting showed visions of her with hair, to what she looked like today; shaven, mature, _aware_. _Beautiful._

The flashlight beamed to some of the other paintings in the room, all done by the same artist. All done by V. His signature, _his_ circular letter V, graced the corner of each painting in its unmistakable pattern. There were paintings of London. People he must have witnessed in various stages of poverty and despair. He painted with vibrant beauty as if he could see the infinite possibilities of each life portrayed. Their eyes reflected hope and upon seeing them, Evey suddenly understood the idea of retribution. And what it meant to her champion.

The more she searched for him and the more she found, the more she understood. The more she loved. It was as if he purposefully left this beautiful legacy for her senses to find and behold, and yet it left her evermore void. It was too much to bear. She backed out of the curtained room and turned towards the exit. The small hidden door captured her attention and she headed for it at once. Reaching into her pocket and fishing for the keys, it worked, on the first try.

Fertilizer and other chemical containers lined the room on both sides. There were large rolls of wire neatly stacked in one corner. Knives, swords, crossbows, battleaxes. All different shapes and sizes hung on the walls in size order. Evey felt uncomfortable and didn't wish to look anymore. She shut the door and locked it behind her.

Love for violence left her alone and made her childhood agonizing, had almost raped her, was responsible for the deaths of friends and loved ones; it tainted her innocence forever. She hated violence and everything it represented. She would never condone it, not for anyone. Evey had had enough, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and something to eat.

She grabbed the suitcase, went to her room, and opened it on the bed. Finch's card fell to the floor. She picked it up to read as she undressed. The card read "Chief Inspector" under the name and had the official insignia of England with the slogan "Strength through Unity, Unity through Faith" written across the top. How long had Finch kept his feelings to himself about Norsefire? How long had he lived a lie?

She walked naked to the bathroom with her clothing in hand. Evey wrapped herself in a towel she found under the sink, and turned on the bath water. Baths calmed her when she was feeling any kind of stress. The hot water and steam helped her relax.

The water ran into the tub and the events of the day and of the fifth came to mind. It didn't make sense that someone so vivacious and full of life would condemn himself to death. He was comfortable in the skin he created.

She stood and went into the tub, testing the water first for the right amount of heat. Somehow, no matter how the water felt, it was too hot when she first sat. Wincing, she let the steam and heat take over lowering herself into the water. She took a deep breath and shut the water off.

That was when she heard the music.

Her face flushed with heat. Her mouth dropped. She sprinted out of the water and put her tank and sweats on without drying. Fear crawled up her spine like the haunting touch of a specter that wanted something from her. What, she had no idea. She opened the door and staggered through the hall to the Wurlitzer, the rhythmic sound of a heart pounded so loud, it drowned out the music. Evey clutched the stone wall and braced herself.

"Cry Me a River" played softly. Hands reached out to touch the glass. Those same hands felt for the vibrations, the music, and the authenticity; anything that her own perception could seek to keep her in reality. Then a small black and red object stood erect atop of the jukebox. She recognized it at once. The Domino. _It couldn't be! _Grabbing it between her thumb and forefinger, she examined it.

"How beauteous mankind is! Oh brave new world that has such people in it," she murmured, not turning around.

_The sound of footsteps from leather boots behind her slowed and halted._

"Hello, Evey."


	5. Chapter 5

Evey turned; it seemed at that moment everything happened in slow motion.

Her eyes watched the domino slip out of her fingers_…clink…clink…clink on the floor. _

She looked into the face of V and screamed. She trembled as she covered her mouth. He stood with gloved hands clasped in front and legs slightly apart. Upon seeing him, she shook and lost control gasping for breath. The moment overwhelmed her sending her though a mirage of painted white faces that skewed. The music in the background distorted and slurred. Her knees buckled. Evey fought against the urge to fall by running to him embracing his neck. He winced upon contact, helping her to keep her balance and supporting her arms.

The expression on her face was sheer horror. "Oh my God! My God" her eyes were full of tears as she looked to his masked face, "How…are y….you…here? You're alive!" she cried. "You're alive!" She hugged him, holding on for support.

"Yes, Evey…I'm here." He was uncertain how to feel. Awkward at her closeness, but pleased all the same.

There was a brief pause before she spoke again. One hundred million things came to her mind. "Oh my God! I watched you die! You're wounded. Are you hurt?" Her hands still shaking, she reached for his chest to touch where there was once a wound and blood. _Blood. Lots of it…streaked on the floor…on her clothes…on her hands._ _Hands._

He moved to avoid her touch. "I believe I am going to be fine, Evey, it may take some more time for me to heal, but whatever injury there may have been, well, I've tended to it."

"I don't understand. How did you get off the train?"

"I jumped. It seemed just in time."

"How can this be?" In disbelief, she backed away and tried to comprehend. To gain some composure. The impact of the moment hit her. "You were dead, V… I saw you, I watched you die… I carried your body to the train." She exclaimed. At that revelation, the tears welled in her eyes even more.

He seemed to observe her keeping his poise.

"I must be dreaming." Her sobbing became intensified and her breathing more labored "You can't be real…you died in my arms…I watched you die …I watched you die!" She was furiously looking around trying to make sense of everything. This all seemed so surreal as if she was seeing a spirit or an apparition her fright becoming more and more unrestrained. Staring in the distance, Evey seemed to loom in her own thoughts for a few seconds.

"Evey." She gasped as V reached to help her steady herself.

"Don't touch me!" She moved her arm away, "Was this another one of your tricks, V?"

"Now, Evey, try to contain yourself."

"Just…just …who are you... _what_ are you?!"

"Be careful Evey, you're becoming insensitive."

But she was swimming in uncertainty. Evey now started to wonder if the whole death incident had been part of his elaborate plan. "V…you didn't plan things to go this way."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"I mean… you didn't stage your death did you?"

"Certainly not. I can assure you Evey, I thought I was a dead man just as indisputably as you did. The fact that I survived such an event was merely…good fortune."

"Oh, I see…have you been in the Gallery this entire time?"

"Off and on. Yes."

"You mean you led me to believe that you were dead and you let me suffer this entire time?"

"I'm sorry Evey; it wasn't my desire to make you unhappy. Sometimes the chips don't always fall the way you expect them to."

"So that's how you see it… like I am some kind of plaything?" She felt the blood rush to her head.

"Evey, whatever conclusions you have drawn for yourself are untrue, and I would prefer that you would refrain from making false accusations against my character. I told you, no more lies."

There was a long silence between them.

Evey watched him with incredulity, tears streamed down her face.

Not knowing where to go from here, she closed her eyes and took a breath. "I am sorry; I guess I am just in a state of shock. I can't believe you're here." She put her face in her hands sobbing again. "I'm sorry… I can't …I can't stop crying." She kept wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"Understandable, my dear…" He pulled a handkerchief from the inside of his tunic and moved closer to her to wipe her tears away. "You thought I was dead just a few moments ago, give yourself time to accept the fact that I am standing here."

"With you--"

"Now." His voice almost inaudible soothed her very core.

He cradled her face in one gloved hand and wiped her tears away with the other. Her breathing slowed and calmed. She reached up and took the handkerchief, never letting her gaze leave him. Her soft brown eyes were full of wonder and amazement.

"Then you're… you're real…you're really here."

He remained quiet, and she could perceive he was being honest, but for whatever reason, there was something that he wasn't willing or ready to reveal. She could taste it. She didn't have the strength to press the issue any further.

"How are your wounds? Are you still hurt?" She reached out again to touch his chest and he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Thank you for your concern, but I can assure you…I'm fine."

Stunned by his sudden movement, she retrieved her hand at his insistence that he wasn't to be touched. Distrust. More obvious by the way she was looking at him, more unyielding with every moment, as if she were catching on. _What the hell are you hiding from me V?_

"Evey, perhaps you would like something to drink. Maybe I can pour you a glass of brandy. It will calm your nerves and help you stop shaking." It was clear that he was trying to change the subject and bring her back.

_Just like father_…

She remembered him. The way he would pacify her with false reassurance when she knew there was trouble. The riots. The secret meetings. Strange men coming into the house asking questions. The guns. Her mother staying up late at night, worrying. It was a lie. All lies. She stared at him for a few moments and nodded. She had forgotten her bath and now looked down at her clothing, realizing she was dripping on the floor the wetness of her thin tank rendering her almost naked on top. "Yes…yes, that would be great."

"Good." He snapped up in his usual happy fashion to get her drink

She sighed in relief at the distraction and kept looking in his direction, unable to peel her eyes away from him. At that moment, she did not want him to leave, only to find that he is gone again, never to return. He went to the small bar table in the T.V. room and came back with a large rounded brandy snifter a quarter full. He handed the drink to her, put his arm around her shoulder, and turned her in the direction of her room.

"Why don't you get into some comfortable clothing, and I will make you something to eat?"

She sipped from the glass. "Thank you .That sounds wonderful." Walking a few feet away to the direction of her room, she stopped to face him once more. "I'm glad you're back."

He stood and watched her wipe her face as she disappeared into her room and shut the door. Satisfied that she could express herself and her feelings so openly, he smiled behind the mask.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch6

Evey tried to contain her excitement as she reached into her suitcase to retrieve a pair of soft jeans, a lace tank, and a rose-colored sweater to put over her ensemble. Her shaking hadn't stopped as she dressed and she wanted this time to compose herself.

Looking at her face in the mirror, she tried to wipe away the swelling under her eyes from crying. Her face paled as if she had seen a ghost. _She had._ She was elated that he was alive and yet frightened at the idea. Evey shuddered at the very notion. After all, she was certain he had died.

She remembered watching him die. She remembered weeping over his body so deeply until her stomach hurt. She remembered struggling to drag his heavy body to the train and straining to lift it to its resting place.

As she sat down on the soft bed and slipped into her flat shoes, she looked up at the handkerchief on the dresser that V had given her. The bright red embroidered V in the corner understated the lace edging like a testimonial that what she saw was the real deal.

Of that, she was certain; had it been anyone else, she would have known in an instant. How he got _here_ was another mystery, amongst many others. She stood, grabbed the handkerchief, and went out to the Gallery. She caught the smell of peppers and onion, as she walked over into the kitchen.

"Ah. That's much better." V turned to face her, his head tilted as he looked at her clothing. He was wearing his fluffy apron and holding a spatula in his hand. There was soft jazz playing on the radio, and as always, he had the table neatly set for one.

Eve felt nervous and smirked at the vision of him wearing an apron again. It was one that she would never get used to, _or_ _maybe it was the idea of a dead man in an apron that she couldn't get used to._

"Have a seat."

"Thank you." She slid into her chair as he continued at the stove.

"You don't look well, Evey. Are you alright?" He was stirring hot vegetables with the spatula. He was speaking too normal, as if nothing happened.

"I just haven't had much of an appetite since you…left."

"Really Evey, you should not have mourned my passing so deeply." He stopped moving the spatula in the pan. "You have your whole life ahead of you."

_Why is he talking this way? _"Maybe I never thought you'd actually be _watching_ me." Her speech turned to ice. She squeezed the handkerchief in her hand and her palms were glazing with sweat.

Silence.

_Ah, she knows_. _Good_.

He turned around to face her leaning on the edge of the hot stove, draping a hand towel over his left shoulder. "It was necessary for me to return to the Gallery. I didn't want to violate your privacy, but I had no choice."

_That's not what I meant V and you know it_. "No, this is your home, you should be here."

"I never revoke a gift, Evey." He turned around to pick up the frying pan, brought the sizzling food in front of her, and scraped into her plate.

"Thank you." She started eating. "Actually, it might be better if I could stay here for a while until things calm down."

"Good idea."

She noticed he didn't have his gloves on. He turned around again to face the stove and scrape the pan.

"Were you able to watch the destruction of Parliament on the 5th?"

He stopped scraping. "Not from a comfortable distance, no." He left the pan on the stove and sat down across from her to watch her eat with his gloves on.

"V…how were you able to escape in such a short amount of time?" She appeared confused as she looked down at her plate and played with her food.

"I barely escaped with my life, Evey."

He looked at the table as if she could read his facial expression. _Here it comes._

"What happened to all of the bullets?"

"I…removed them." She stopped chewing and stared at him. Her fork was shaking in her hand as she lowered it. _She's terrified_. _My poor Evey._

A few moments of silence occurred between them just staring at each other. Evey's face turned to morbid disbelief.

"_You_ removed them." She lowered her head and looked at him with her big brown eyes. "All by yourself?"

"I know what you're thinking Evey." He spoke as if he knew that she still thought of him as a monster.

He watched her squeezing the handkerchief into a ball. "If I were to tell you that there is worse pain that a person could endure, you probably wouldn't believe me."

Pausing again, she studied the mask and waited for anything more he wished to say on the subject, but nothing ever came. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry V. I guess I'm just tired." She lied and resumed eating.

V watched her eat; her delicate mouth savored the food that he loved to cook for her. He thought about what a treasure she is and how fortunate he is to have her _with him_. He was concerned about her. She didn't look well. She lost most of the color in her face and she looked exhausted and troubled. How he wanted to hold her in his arms and taste her sweet mouth against his, and tell her everything was going to be all right now, but he didn't want to lie to her. Not again. No never again.

"Have you been watching the telly?" She asked him breaking the silence.

"Yes, there is a lot of confusion in London right now."

"Is it what you expected?"

"I'd expected that there would be some type of alternate government by now to control it, but there isn't."

"V…what do you think is going to happen to this country now that there is no government in place?"

"Well, I have my suspicions, but I am hoping that they are wrong." He said this with such dread in his voice, that Evey stopped eating and placed her fork at the edge of her plate.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with Evey. You need to rest now, and I have some work to do." With that, he got up, glanced at the mess in the kitchen, and went to the direction of his rooms. He stopped and turned halfway around, "Good night Evey." He exited.

"Goodnight V. And thank you." He didn't wait for her response.

Evey was puzzled about what disturbed V so badly that he would leave before cleaning. V always kept the kitchen meticulous and insisted on rising to the task himself, especially after one of his gourmet meals. Every time Evey had tried to help him, he would say something like, "Oh don't trouble yourself Evey; what kind of host would I be if I allowed you clean?" It wasn't characteristic of him to leave without cleaning the scraps of cut up vegetables. Evey frowned and started to worry about what he was holding back from her.


	7. Chapter 7

V's conversation with Evey left him feeling like he had been ignoring his responsibilities. He went directly into his bedroom and headed for the monitor room, before remembering that he needed the keys. She _had_ them. He thought he had escaped her. _Damn._ He would have to break the lock. It would be better if she weren't involved.

Turning the doorknob all the way, V broke the mechanism with one hand while pushing the door. The room came to life as monitors and lights flickered on. V checked each different image on the displays, changing the view on a couple of them. Satisfied, he continued to the assignment.

Hidden by soundproofing on the far wall in adjacent studio where V made his video recording to address London, there was another small room. Impressed by the ingenious design of the Gallery and the hidden portals, V liked to use them to his advantage should they ever need to make an escape. He could also complete his work and leave Evey thinking he was still present. _Fiend._

He went through the sound room and through the unlocked hidden door. Light came on again, this time a small desk and a computer on top of it blinked and made a small sound. V sat on the leather swivel chair and keyed in commands.

The computer screen moved from one screen to the next. Obtaining knowledge in the field had taken several months, but proved vital for his work. In it, he was able to hack hidden government codes and encryptions, gaining access to some of the most sensitive military information. Now he searched for something specific. The information was available to anyone who inquired for it, but wanting the real purpose of it, V accessed deeper. He sat forward and tilted his head to the side.

The government file opened to read, "Search criteria" and the curser blinked waiting for V to type in his query. Typing the letters I.M.S, the screen went blank. V felt his body tense as he read the information. He remembered something Evey once said.

What he discovered this moment could unquestionably change the world for the worst.


	8. Chapter 8

V just sat in front of the computer motionless for what seemed like hours

V sat in front of the computer motionless for hours. The only thing that surpassed his rage was his need for vengeance. His face grew hot. His blood boiled to a critical level as his mind calculated plans on top of plans. The _need_ had overcome him again and he had to get out to the darkness above to what he had grown accustomed. 

He sprang fro his chair and opened the door, glancing at the displays one by one. Something caught his eye. Hidden video cameras positioned in the underground fortress that was once Sutler's hiding place disclosed all that he lavished on while in power.

Now occupied by _someone else_. 

The room was dark, meaning that the individual chose to sit by himself with the lights off. The man was sitting in a deep, cushioned chair. His profile silhouetted. He smoked a cigarette. The cigarette caught V's eye, leaving the intruder's intended concealment in the dark exposed. There was a level of arrogance as he sat there and blew smoke rings, as if to say he belonged there taking his charge and relaxing. V stared at him for a long time in earnest. Unable to get a clear view of the man's identity, V left the man lounging in his chair, confident all would reveal itself.

He rushed to his closet to adorn his cloak and hat, opening a hidden drawer, which held his blades and knife belt. He strapped his belt on and studied each knife to be certain they were gleaming and sharp enough for his liking. _Gollum_. 

This was to make a point. To those who would have the audacity to challenge him, V would deliberately make them aware of how they would die first without mistake in their vision. It was a drama that he was proud of. That gave the prize at the end was the added bonus. The dreadful guarantee. Most were so distracted and mesmerized by his elaborate show, that death came upon them before they had the opportunity to protest. 

He _liked_ toying with his prey, and watching their facial expressions. His display was hypnotic, and disturbing, but _always_ well deserved. He checked the monitors before he left the Gallery to view this newfound visitor. The chair was vacant. The man had left the room. V checked some other cameras to no avail. He then searched for Evey and had the monitors pick up the images of the Gallery. She was nowhere and he felt the urge to see her in person before the diversion of the night swallowed him. 

He walked out of his rooms toward the edge of the hallway to wait in the dark and see if he could find her. He heard her stir on the leather sofa. He crept over to check on her and make sure she was all right. She was sleeping. Curled up in a soft fleece blanket. A book of poetry, "The Book of Counted Sorrows," was open on the end table. He loomed over and listened to her breathe, wishing he could find the peace that came so readily to her. His eyes roamed along the curves of her body, his desire becoming more and more envious of the coverlet. 

He turned to make his exit, and then looked back to Evey's slumbering, whispering underneath the mask. "These violent delights have violent ends." And then vanished. Gone to the night.

_A whisper_. Evey opened her eyes. She sprang up to look around the Gallery floor. It was quiet, but she felt the air move. She stretched and yawned, and then stretched her head to look at the grandfather clock that read half past one in the morning. She cursed to herself. She knew that whenever she awoke during the night, she usually had a rough time getting back to sleep. She decided to turn on the telly to see the news. 

The streets of London looked like a battleground of people fighting on lines for food, medical supplies, and bottled water. Another report this time by Dick and June, pre-recorded from the evening news last night, made the hairs on the back of Evey's neck stand.

Dick reported with his most serious expression, "British intelligence has reported the deployment of military troops from the former United States or the Sovereign Security Union as they are now recognized. We are being told that such deployment is for foreign support for the resistance following the alleged Norsefire _terrorist regime_, and should not be viewed as a violation of foreign treaty or the United Anti-terrorism Act. It is expected that the SSU troops could be reaching English soil as early as next week. We'll have more on this story as it develops…June."

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

V used the low laying fog to his advantage and barely felt the damp air as he raced in pursuit to the sound of people ahead. This time of night, the London streets were desolate of living souls. Any sounds heard, were the last voices of the potential departed before the morning dawn. V timed his excursions with the view to saving the innocent from the hands of Fingermen. _But perhaps not on this night_. 

The curfew in London changed to a mandatory 10:00 PM and no one with any sense would have violated this statute with no protection or law enforcement. V kept his pace as the wind curled the mist in the air and scattered litter in the street. All he heard now was the sound of his own breathing underneath the mask. He stopped to listen. The sound turned faint, almost an undertone, but definitely ahead a few meters, as if whoever it was, was waiting.

At last, V came upon the source. He sheltered himself under the shadow of a broken fire escape at the entrance of an alleyway to observe. Ahead, a man couched with a gun in his hand, and his back turned. He was trying to avoid being seen by two other men ahead of him. The crouching man looked over his shoulder for any unwanted assailants, and V recognized him immediately as Dominic. He watched two Fingermen. What they had done, V was uncertain. He decided to wait to see what would happen next.

"Seems ta me ta be a good enough deal. "His eyebrows lifted as he took a drag of a cigarette and flicked some ashes to the ground. This one had a mustache and one of his eyes looked wounded.

"Yea, but I don't trust em, the guy gives me the willies the way he stares at ya…an tha long fingernail he's sportin," a man in a black trench coat said.

"But did ya see the sweetie he had waitin for him…man I wish I coulda had me a piece of that arse."

"Not after he gets through with her…he'll probably finish her off when he's done." Laughter again.

As they were speaking, another man entered the alley behind Dominic and passed right in front of V without noticing him. Dominic turned around. The man took hold of his arm and bent it back. Dominic struggled and yelled in agony. The gun dropped to the ground. The man held him by the arms as the other two now came in front of Dominic and started taking turns punching him in the gut.

"Good goin! Now what the bloody hell were ya gonna do with that?" Trench coat said.

They both seemed unfazed as they looked at the gun and then at Dominic, kicking him as he went down. Dominic was on the ground gasping for air.

"I hate these fucking coppers." 

Dominic faced the ground as the man with the mustache kicked him in the face. One of the other men picked up Dominic's gun and pointed it a few inches from his head. 

With a sudden whoosh sound, a dagger flew and hit the gun hand. The assailant dropped it and screamed landing hard on his knees.

"What the _hell_?" The man with the mustache yelled out as the three of them looked in horror at the vision of V. 

He twirled another dagger in his hand.

"The world is grown so bad, that wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch," V spoke with a calm and ease, and rushed toward them with a graceful sweep. The look of fright and awe on their wretched faces was beautiful. They couldn't rip their sights away long enough to defend themselves. 

The man with the dagger wedged in his hand needed silencing. The sound of his squeals became irritating. V sliced his throat effortlessly as he passed behind him. The man fell forward dead in a pool of blood, still holding his own hand. 

Coiling a dagger now in each hand, V lurched forward to lodge them simultaneously in to the sternums of the other two men. Lifting them off the ground, V pitched them sideways toward each other so they collided. Their constant expression of terror remained a mask forever. 

V retrieved his blades, and as he did so, he heard Dominic cough and moan.

"Are you alright?" V asked him, as he finished collecting his knives and belting them.

"Yea, I…I think so." He was keeping his right arm bent in front of him and his face was full of blood.

"Do you need assistance?" V stood waiting for a response.

"No." He put a hand up in protest. "Just let me be for a minute, I'll be ok."

"Very well then."

He allowed V to walk a few steps, and then remembered. "Wait!"

"Yes," V turned back around to face him.

"I…I thought you were dead."

V contemplated for a moment and turned his back to him. Then turned again slightly so Dominic could see his profile. 

"_I am_," he said.

Dominic winced in pain and his eyes shut when he tried to get up, and when he opened them again, V was gone.

Back to the fog. V drank in the dark. This was _his_ home, _his_ London and he would die a thousand times before he let anyone take it from him again. He walked on the pavement aware of the work he had ahead of him, of all of the things he knew and of what he learned. _Something was coming_. He would have to move fast or all could be lost. Although, there was still time, he had to get started with his plan. Stopping short in front of a run down apartment building, V looked at the small amount of light that shined from the window on the top floor.

Rick Webster was the kind of individual that enjoyed his solitude. He knew where everything was located in his lofty flat, and that is just the way he liked it. There were magazines and books stacked everywhere, pieces of machinery, ammunition, guns in hiding places, wiring… hell, he even had one of the original Spiderman comics tucked away in a safe place. He could get anything that money could buy, albeit illegal or not. 

He hated playing both sides of the fence, but hey, he had to eat. He eyed at a small piece of pizza crust left over from five hours ago, and shoved it into his mouth. Tonight was one of those nights when the adrenalin ran high. The music played on a consistent basis, keeping him up somewhere past three A.M. 

He was working on a complex robotic system design program and it was in the most crucial stage. There was no way he could sleep now. He didn't want to. He was wired, man, he was wired. He liked to work under a small bright desk light with a large magnifying glass. Chain-smoking to help keep his focus.

"You're a genius! You're a God Damn genius." He giggled to himself satisfied with the outcome of his latest project. 

Then, the small table light went out.

"Shit!" He tried to switch it on again, and was about to get up and start looking for the stupid tiny light bulb.

"Greetings." A voice said in the darkness.

A pause of recognition. He sat there stunned and knew not to move. "What can I do for ya?" He yelled out.

"I need something from you, and I need it now," Footsteps moved closer.

He rolled his eyes in the dark. _God Dammit!_ Rick hated dealing with this guy. He always caught him off guard. "It's gonna cost ya."

"Money is not an issue _Ricky_, you knowthat." He taunted. The voice came from behind him. Closer now. Rick reached for the gun holstered underneath the desk. 

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were _you_ Ricky. Just give me what I want, and I'll be on my way." 

Rick put both of his hands on the table. "So…uh…what did ya have in mind?" The pay off would be great and the man in the dark would always say something as a sort of gratitude when he finished going through things. _After_ he collected what he wanted. A little, 'fuck you see ya later.' 

"Love what you've done to the place." 

Then the fucker disappeared as the little light on the desk came back on.

"Pleasure doing business with ya!" Rick yelled out to no one. Then there would be the envelope of cash on the desk. Rick always had the shakes afterwards. 


	9. Chapter 9

Evey woke in the dark and remembered that she left the little table light on next to her bed. V must have come in during the night and shut it off while she was sleeping. She lay for a while and stared into the darkness.

The news last night made her sleep restless with worry. The present rumors about the U.S. had conflicted with the past reports and now she was unsure of what to believe. She tossed the covers aside, and slid her feet into slippers. She opened the door.

She smelled the breakfast V made for her as she walked over to the kitchen to her steaming plate. V had eggs with vegetables, toast, sliced fruit and tea set out for her on the table as if he somehow knew what time she would wake.

She sat down and ate, every now and then looking toward the hallway to see if V would emerge from his room. It was unlike him to leave her alone in the morning. No matter how absorbed he was in his work, he greeted her in the morning, politely excusing himself if he had something pressing that he had to continue.

Evey was starting to understand that nothing of this man had ever stayed constant, except his ability to perplex her. Indeed, he was apt to change, and change could often be good. But not with instability thrown in the mix. That's what Evey was frightened of. V had taught her how to live without the fear that tormented her since childhood, but in doing so, caused her to fear _him_ above all.

Evey glanced at the hallway and saw V standing there as if he had been there the whole time. She jumped in her seat.

"I wish you wouldn't creep up on me like that, you almost gave me a heart attack." She wondered how he was able to walk so silent.

"My apologies Evey, I didn't mean to frighten you. Did you sleep well?"

"No, not really." She twirled her fork in her food.

"Can I get you anything? A Valium perhaps?" He stopped next to the kitchen table and put a hand on her shoulder. She jolted.

"No, I'll be fine." She claimed. Her eyes appeared drained when she looked at him.

"What is it? What's troubling you?"

"I watched the news report last night." Her look of concern gave V the answer he was looking for.

"Ah, I see." He stood facing the floor, holding his hands behind himself.

Evey shook her head. "I don't understand. Why do the Americans need to come here? The report said they would be here in less than a week."

"Actually, I didn't want to burden you with this right now Evey," V hesitated "but they have already arrived." He walked over to lean on the stove. He had no choice he had to tell her. He could not leave her in the dark about how dangerous this situation was becoming.

"Troops?"

"One brigade perhaps. But there will be more."

"They're after _us_?"

"I think we're safe _for now_."

"What do they want?"

"What every government has always wanted. World domination. The fact that their main objective is to pursue and execute terrorists, just adds to their rational. It's an excuse really to get what they want."

"So you think that they are going to try to occupy England?"

"In my opinion? _Yes_. Simply because it would be advantageous for them to so. If they could have access to the entire medical supply of Viodoxin should the St. Mary's virus break again--"

"So, you think this has something to do with the St. Mary's virus?" She interrupted. "Why? What could it possibly have to do with that?"

V was not prepared to answer this line of questioning. "I suspect there are other more _significant _reasons." V tried to change the subject.

"Why did the news last night report that Norsefire is a terrorist regime?"

"Oh, I believe in calling a spade a spade, but it's really just a tactic that they use to validate their occupation here. They found us in a weakened state and seized the opportunity. They already have much of the government within their control. The SSU chose to come in quietly to assist, but they have hidden motives.

"Can they do that?"

"Legally, the SSU is well within their rights within accord of the Anti-terrorist act. Who would dare stand against them when they have the U.N. backing? They've dominated more than half the world with that act. It was just a matter of time."

"So you suspected this would happen?" It was more a statement than a question.

"It was inevitable. In any case, England will not surrender without a fight." V stood straight. "We certainly can't allow her to be overrun and turned into…what _they_ have become." It was clear he was holding something back.

"We?"

He scoffed in annoyance. "This revolution didn't arise just to have England fall to the hands of--"

"No V. No. Don't do this! Not again!" Her head tilted to the side; her eyes narrowed and her voice changed. "You're planning something _already_ aren't you?"

"Yes, Evey. If you must know, I do have a plan, but--"

"Wait a minute! You almost got yourself killed the last time!" Evey stood up from her chair.

He stayed motionless, but the mask could not hide his heavy breathing. Evey stepped around the kitchen table and stood in front of him to look him in the face.

"V, you have to stop this _madness, _its crazy!" Her voice softened. "Let this go, _please_! We'll run away from here, we can go somewhere remote where they will never find--"

"I am surprised to hear such a defeatist attitude coming from you. The answer is no." He moved her aside to walk past.

"We'll leave the country."

"No."

"We could live someplace else."

"No!" He turned to face her and shouted at her. "Then they'll win!" His hands were in fists of anger.

She looked at him shaking her head her eyes never leaving him.

"Evey." He was more restrained, almost sorry for bringing back her pain. "There are many things you do not yet understand."

"I _understand! _I understand more than you think." She turned and stormed to the direction of her room.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving." She said in mid stride.

"No you're not." He said with finality that made Evey halt and slap her hands on her thighs. She stared at the ground with her back turned.

"Why? Am I a _prisoner_ again?" She slowly turned around to face him, throwing daggers from her eyes in his direction. _You bastard don't even try it._

He put his gloved fingertips on the kitchen table. "We discussed this. We both agreed it would be much safer for you here. Don't make this more difficult."

"I didn't agree to take part in your plan V. I don't carry the same passion as you do and I can't…" She looked at the floor again. "I can't watch you die again. _Please_ let me go."

"I'm sorry Evey, that's not possible." He appeared so calm, so rigid. It added to her fury.

"I can't stay here."

He kept his stance.

She closed her eyes and paused for a few moments. "I am not a killer like you are! I am not you!" Still no response, he stayed motionless.

"And I won't stay here with you and watch you burn." She was seething and wanted to hurt him with words. Anything but a prisoner, _anything_. Evey could tell that she cut him deep, because he looked stunned.

"And what of this plan, V?" He was reacting as she was taking steps, one at a time, toward him. Mocking him. "What are _you_ going to do? Kill everyone who disagrees with you and this _insatiable idea _of yours?"

V was taking this all in. His mask tilted sideways then to the floor. He resembled a cornered animal.

"I'll kill anyone who tries to stand in my way." There was menace in his voice as if he were directing his words at her.

She raised her chin and challenged him, her words taking more force. "Then you're no better than they are! That doesn't make you a liberator of this country!" She scoffed in disgust with a smirk on her face. "That just makes you _Brutus_!"

"ENOUGH!" V yelled and slammed both fists on the indestructible kitchen table. It busted in half and collapsed in the middle; the dishes crumbled to the floor.

The sound was loud and the vision was a man out of control. Evey's eyes widened at the table and then at him. The oddity of any man capable of such strength. She lingered for a moment, and then bolted to her bedroom.

V raised his hands in front of his face. He saw Evey's expression before she escaped.

"Evey!" he shouted after her and was instantly upon her in the darkened bedroom. He closed the door behind him. The room turned black.

"You stay away from me."

He could hear her heavy breathing.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she backed into a stack of books knocking them to the floor.

"Evey, please! _I'm not a monster_! It's jus…"

She heard him remove the mask and drop it to the floor.

"It's just _me_, Evey." His voice had a clarity she never heard before. He was advancing toward her.

"V. Don't hurt me."

"I wouldn't. I won't hurt you." His voice soothed and charmed.

He took her upper arm and drew her close. "Don't be afraid of me."

He was talking into her face and she smelled his sweet breath.

"My heart beats." He grabbed her other hand and put it to his chest. "Listen to me breathe Evey. I'm flesh and blood just like you." _And something more_.

His gloved hand let go of hers and moved to the side of her face "_Kiss me, _Evey."

"V. _Please_." Her breathing became heavier.

He pulled her into his arms, to his forceful embrace where there was no room for resistance. His chest pressed against hers.

"_Kiss me_." This time it was a demand, not a request.

He whispered as she felt the surprising softness of his lips and the warmth and security of being tightly in his arms. She relaxed and responded sliding her arms up his back. His stature was more massive than she imagined and somewhere within overpowering.

Their kiss lingered for sometime and stopped just as sudden as it started, as if V remembered something. His arms relaxed and his hands fell to her waist. He backed away.

He felt himself flush with heat and wanting her, _needing_ her. Something was pulling at him. A loud voice within himself struggling to overcome this new sensation, this devastating spark.

He stood, absorbed in his own thoughts.

"V, what is it?" Evey asked sensing his inner turmoil.

He let go. He composed himself and pulled down on his tunic to straighten it.

"Forgive me madam, if I've offended you."

Evey could swear that he bowed in the darkness, but she could not be certain. Before she could protest, he picked up his mask. _Gone_. Evey was alone in the dark. She sat on the bed with a deep sigh, feeling perplexed once again.

V leaned against the doorframe to Evey's room with his face upward and his fist against his heart. Underneath the mask, his eyes closed in anguish as he stumbled away toward his rooms. Never in his imagination had he ever thought this girl, _this woman_ could have his head spinning in a multitude of different directions. He opened the door to his bedroom. The result that his hunger for her remained unquenched made him ache so badly that he lurched forward. He grabbed the bedpost for support as he gave way to weeping, cursing his adoration for her and the burden it brought with it. She was justified in her fear of him, and yet he felt immersed in her beauty and her kisses even though she might never see him as more. He felt her arms and her embrace as a battle within- his vendetta being the protagonist, and her, the villain that drained its power. He had to find the strength to bring this fixation to a finish or see it through. Else, he could go mad.

And what of her needs? She would need the touch, the embrace, the human contact that he was warring to relinquish perhaps unfairly. After all, he made her a permanent guest without the option of seeking a more suitable companion.

Not that he would tolerate it, captive or not. V calmed himself, deciding to face the matter at hand, determining that either way he could lose everything.


	10. Chapter 10

Evey knelt down to restack the pile of books that toppled. She did this not paying attention to the works. She was reading them, but her mind didn't register the titles of George Orwell, Mark Twain, and Alexander Dumas that passed before her eyes. Her mind was on something else. Her mind and heart were with a man. This man she feared, loathed, mistrusted, mourned and misjudged. The latter more than the former. He was enigmatic about _himself_, but always so sincere about his beliefs and his ideals, never hesitating to let her know about them. Evey didn't understand why she had been so angry when he told her she couldn't leave. She laughed. Where else could she go? She was misdirecting her rage at someone that only desired to love and protect her. And her impulse? To run like a frightened child.

Why?

Why did she feel so strongly about this? Was it the thought of being trapped with _him_? No, the very idea of being _away_ from him gave her a feeling she did not want to entertain. Not again. It was the powerless feeling, the helplessness, the thought of doing nothing while those around her suffered. Sort of like being a mouse in a cage, always looking for a way out. Never finding it. Forever running on a maddening treadmill.

It brought her back to the incident when her mother demanded she hide as she watched her vanish into a black bag never to see her again. _There it is_. V must have felt these same things, the only difference being that he violently acted upon them. Something she could never bring herself to do.

And what of the kiss? She thought she was obvious and passionate enough to let V know how she felt. _She wanted him_. His kiss and the feel of being in his arms had been amazing. She didn't want it to stop there, and felt certain V felt the same thing by the reaction of his body against her. He fought to tear himself away in the dark. Something made him withdraw, as if she looked into the sacredness of his soul.

Wiping the dust off her hands, Evey stood. She needed to shower or bathe to get refreshed. She still felt so tired, and decided that maybe a bath would be better.

She grabbed some undergarments, opened the door, and headed toward the bathroom. V cleaned and straightened the kitchen, and a wooden table replaced the contemporary one. The Shadow Gallery seemed vacant and quiet. A sigh of relief came over her. She was much too tired to deal with anything right now.

After bathing, Evey dressed and went straight to her room to fall asleep…

The sound of music from the Wurlitzer woke her. She looked at the clock that read 8:00PM. Stretching, she noticed a candle that flickered on the chest of draws. Something draped on the chair adjacent to it. Evey blinked to adjust her eyesight and pulled the covers back.

She went to the chair and picked up the soft silk fabric, which caught the light and revealed a rich burgundy. She held it up gasping at the fine quality and style. Evey removed her sweats and put it on over her head. It fell on her with a _whoosh_ that hugged her hips. It draped with a low scooping neckline and trailed to the floor.

Like an excited little girl, Evey rushed to the mirror and twirled half way around each way. She beamed. The dress made her look like a starlet from an old Bogart movie. Her lace panties underneath would have to come off, their presence added too many lumps to the perfect fit. Once removed, she studied herself and realized this was not a dress at all. It was more like lingerie. It revealed too much for it to be mistaken for anything else. It was almost as if V were giving her the option to stay put if she so desired. Evey looked at the door and then the floor.

She lifted the front of her skirts and emerged from the room, looking around the gallery, now bathed in sparkling candlelight. She felt her heart fall to her stomach and walked to the jukebox. It played soft acoustic guitar. She caught sight of V dressed in his usual pristine tunic and black trousers. His boots looked shiny as his hair and mask did as well. He seemed to like the persona he created for himself. He seemed more than comfortable and happy in it. He was striking, but it wasn't just because of the clothing he adorned himself with, it was his radiance within. Evey always thought so.

He poured wine into a crystal wine glass, and stopped when he saw her to stand upright. He watched her walk toward him, and placed the bottle of Cabernet on the table. He did not remove his eyes from her.

"Hi." Evey said at a loss for words.

V didn't respond.

After a few moments, Evey smiled. "Is that for me?" She gestured at the wine glass.

"Oh yes." He said forgetting himself. "Forgive me." He grasped the glass by the base, and handed it to her looking into her eyes. She took a sip.

"The gallery looks beautiful like this." She looked away at the paintings that now moved with light and took on a life of their own. It seemed, as usual, he positioned the candles to reflect the adulation of the owner of each work of art.

"It is only surpassed by your own beauty."

She turned her attention to him and blushed. He had never looked away from her. "Thank you. And thank you for the…ur… dress." She looked down at herself and lifted the side of it. "It is the loveliest thing I've ever owned." She admitted.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it. Where did you get it? Did you make it? It fits perfectly."

"It suits you well." V studied every curve of the dress, delighted that she was happy to wear it.

Evey ceased from swooning over the dress when she saw that he observed her. She stopped to watch the mask that looked over her form. The lingerie had a certain transparency and Evey felt her face flush.

V noticed her embarrassment took her glass. He left it on the table and led her to the dance floor.

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable Evey. I suppose I am not accustomed to the delicate intimacy that can occur between a man and a woman." He took charge of the situation as if he was a pro though and turned her on the dance floor.

"No doubt your opinion of me from the way I behaved this afternoon--"

"Shh." She put fingers on the lips of the mask. "I enjoyed the kiss V. And you didn't make me feel uncomfortable; I love the dress. _Really_." Her voice softened as she looked up at him with desire in her large eyes.

They stopped dancing as he pulled her close. His embrace was strong and powerful. Masculine. Her fingers played with his shoulder. She gazed at darkness in the mask as the gleaming light danced around its smiling features and stared back at her.

"V…"

"Yes."

"There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" His head tilted to the side as he looked down at her. She had his undivided attention.

"The night before the fifth when I came back here." His hand stroked her lower back now exposed by the low cut of the dress. "I came here to tell you something." She hesitated.

"Yes."

"I came back here because I wanted to tell you that I was wrong about the way that I treated you, and I wanted to tell you that …that"

"Yes."

"I'm in love with you." Her eyes were hazing with tears as she spoke.

V fought to keep his self-control as if the power of her words could somehow bring him to his knees. She heard a breath escape him as he pulled her close and hugged her. He was so warm. _Safe._

"No tears, Evey." He tried to reassure her, and then backed her away once more so he could look at her face. He removed his glove and put his hand on her cheek to stop the tear that escaped. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I thought you might not be ready to hear it. And then I never got the chance."

"I am flattered that you feel that way for me."

She closed her eyes.

"And now. I have something I need to ask you." He pulled her close to him taking her hand to his chest, the silk becoming a slippery boundary between them.

He spoke so soft that his words were lighting a fire within her. Evey's heart raced.

"But first, I want you to understand that you are not under any obligation to me, and if you should decline-- I shall respect your wishes." There was a sound of reluctance in his voice as he loosed his grip on her. "I don't know the kind of suitors that you are accustomed to, but I would hope not to sound too forthright."

"What is it?" Her chin was down, and her brown eyes that looked up at him caught the candlelight.

He paused. "Would you…spend the night with me, Evey?"

She tilted her head to the side the seriousness of her expression not giving a clue as to what she would reply. She thought of the courage it must have taken for him to ask. Then again, she knew that he was a fearless and strong personality. Anyone who could have endured what he must have, had to be something special.

"Yes, I would love to."

Just then, everything in the room came to a halt. The music stopped. All movement either froze or went into slow motion. At that moment and it seemed to V that the whole world around them became a blur of small lights and sound.

She heard his breath. It released with the understanding that he would have his prize. He was standing still, stunned, looking at the floor as if someone had just dealt him a blow.

He straightened and collected himself.

V suddenly turned on her. "Then you will belong to me forever!" His voice became loud and wracked with emotion.

Evey didn't have time to react as he lifted her off her feet, carried her as if she were made of air.

They went into the hallway, to the door of his room that seemed to open all by itself. He placed her on her feet as she heard the door close behind her. They bathed in darkness. The room fell silent as if she were standing alone. Evey felt suddenly afraid.

"V?" She couldn't see a single thing. He did not answer as a few moments passed.

"V? Where are you?" She was turning in a circle. "V?"

"Hold out your arms Evey." He whispered behind her into her ear. He was close. She felt his hands gently lift her arms straight out. "Don't move." He commanded.

She heard the unmistakable sheathing sound of a dagger and winced.

"Don't move." He repeated.

Then she felt a cutting noise next to her ear and then the other as he cut the lingerie at her shoulders. The fabric fell to the floor in a single motion. It betrayed her instantly. She lowered her arms to the sides of her naked body, and stood for a few moments in silence.

"You are exquisite, Evey." His voice came from a few feet in front of her.

"You can _see_ me?"

"Every _inch_ of you." She reacted, attempting to cover herself. V walked closer to her. "Don't conceal yourself from me, Evey. _Please_." He said.

"I…I can't see you."

"_And you never will_." He whispered.

His hand stroked her face and pulled her toward him. He pressed his nakedness against her, and she wondered how he got undressed without her knowing. Her hand reached up to touch his face. He grabbed it.

"Love the man, Evey." He started kissing her forceful at first, then yielding, moving down her neck, his hands roving all over her skin.

Evey reached out and touched his chiseled and powerful arms as her hands moved over his well developed chest. His build was solid and his skin felt hot and smooth, like a person scorched by the sun. It was then she realized there were no bullet holes, no scars, and no testimony of the injuries he had sustained.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."1 He spoke kissing her lips.

V lifted her to the bed.

Evey squeezed her eyes shut tight. She choked back the fear as he dominated her; accepting that she could not turn back now. No. Not that she ever wanted to.

1. Romeo & Juliet


	11. Chapter 11

**0800. Hours **

The couch was plush and the air was pleasant in the stronghold that had once been the dwelling of the now deceased chancellor. Quartermaster Lieutenant Benjamin R. Hass tapped his fingers on one of the two items that the General requested, certain that he would be pleased in the accommodations down here. He started a new fire in the fireplace. It added warmth and light to the fine setting of velvet and leather accompaniments.

The General would want more though.

He had a fetish for young women, sometimes two a night. Often the lieutenant would have to straighten out the situation after the General got into one of his bouts of drinking, leaving his wounded for Hass to straighten out. Hass hated this part of his job. He didn't know what he was going to walk into half the time, but the General for the most part, had been satisfied with the swiftness and confidentiality that only Hass could provide. He dealt with each situation with a trusted expertise. Now Hass waited for the General to arrive. He stared at the sparkling fire; it rose and fell with a soft crackling momentum. A telephone rang, and Hass picked it up on the first ring.

"Yes. Very good." He stood as the door opened.

General Daniel M. Quaid stepped in and glanced around at the large room.

"Sir." Hass stood erect saluting the General.

"At ease, Lieutenant." The General mumbled as if he had more important things on his mind. His cold blue eyes now surveyed the Lieutenant and continued to look around indifferently at his new found home.

"How was your trip sir?"

"Exhausting."

"Is there anything I can get you sir?"

"No, no."

"I trust the lodging is to your liking?"

"It will do for now." His said in annoyance. Hass was hovering too much. "Hand me the Sweep Component." He made a gesture to the elaborate square metal case lined up next to the couch as he sat down.

Hass picked it up and handed it to him.

"Did you get her IMS code?"

"Uh...Yes sir." He reached into a small brief case retrieved a file, and handed it to the General.

"Excellent." He opened the file and gave a satisfied smile. He punched in a secret key code on the end of the Sweep Component, and reached into his uniform for a special flat key attached to a chain with other keys. He inserted the key and punched some more codes. The titanium case flipped open.

Hass watched the General's face. A small blue light brightened his eyes, giving them an eerie glow. The General looked up at Hass with a grin, and then glanced at the small liquor bar in the corner. "Let's say you and I have some scotch together to celebrate the moment."

Hass looked at his watch and was about to protest, but did not want to say no to the General.

"Yes sir". He went over to the bar and glanced over his shoulder. The General typed the code from the file. Hass poured the scotch and put one on the table in front of the General.

"Read off the code to me Lieutenant." He handed the file to Hass.

"Yes sir. One, Five, Six, Victor, Seven, Niner, Zero, Zero, Zero, Three, Seven, Q.

The General picked up the scotch and held it up. "Well, Lieutenant. Here's to freedom."

Touching glasses, they looked at each other and smiled in understanding. The General and the Lieutenant laughed as he punched the last code and hit "mark".

Across the world somewhere in San Francisco California, the _former_ Mrs. Doris Ann Quaid, IMS-156V7900037Q, collapsed and died instantly.

"_Now_." He finished his scotch and put the glass down. "Let's see what else you have for me." He held out his hand for Hass to place something in it.

"Yes _sir_."

Hass handed him the private memoirs of one Dr. Dana Stanton.


	12. Chapter 12

The former United States of America had changed its name in response to the St. Mary's outbreak on its own soil, to The Sovereign Security Union (SSU). Unlike other nations, one of the objectives of the SSU was to target terrorism and anyone caught in alliance with a terrorist on an international scale.

The English propaganda from its radio waves and television media, had understated the strength of the SSU, leaving themselves to look the victor, but in reality, the contrary was the truth. One thing was for certain, the country had become godless. Prothero had been correct on this account. The religious dissimilarity of the duel world powers is what ultimately caused the relationship between the two to sever. With the acts of terrorism in the U.S. in early millennium, the problem escalated. After all, how could a nation possibly fight a faceless enemy with no distinction? The country became plagued with terrorist activity and in the end she sought to fight back the only way she knew how; by eradicating the social freedoms that she fought so hard for almost three hundred years to preserve.

Just as what happened in England, the citizens of the former United States were brought to compulsion by fear, not just by the government, but also by forces unseen. Because of the religious correlation to terrorism, the country had all religion banned except for the political religion of the state regime which in essence was no religion at all.

What was once deemed impossible became reality.

The domestic policy on the St. Mary's virus implied that the country's citizens were _expendable_. The known cure issued to essential and military personnel only, coupled with the religious intolerance, sparked civil wars that had escalated from the survivors of the disease and the fighters of freedom. To no avail. They fought a nation with the strongest military in the world. After 14 years, and what had seemed like endless fighting, the majority of people willingly gave up their rights again out of fear of terrorism.

The new age brought with it a new concept in monitoring its citizens; a small computer chip the size of an eyelash called The Identity Monitoring System or IMS, was developed to be injected subcutaneously into the skin. Once introduced as a means of tracking medical records and the like, it became used more extensively as a means to track the identity, birth records, record of convictions, taxes and amount of currency or monetary worth a person had, subject to government control. The state mandated its use so that it became the means of living for buying such necessities as food, clothing, and shelter.

As always, with any new technology, the government successfully sought ways to use this device as a weapon that could be tracked and used via satellite. Something originally created for the common good became like the first airplane; created for travel but eventually dropped the first atomic bomb. IMS was used to eradicate any individuals that posed a threat just by sending a signal to the brain; the victim would die within moments. It was perfect, undetectable, and could be used as a weapon with results that an autopsy could not detect.

Like its parallel world England, no one would suspect the government would be using such a weapon against its _own_ populace…


	13. Chapter 13

The gallery was completely quiet. Most of the candles had burned down and gone out by themselves, leaving the scent of candle wax behind and giving the once empty gallery a lived in feel. A large bedroom door opened in a dark hallway, and _the man from room five_ emerged quietly and closed the door behind him.

He carried a dagger in his gloved hand with an intention, but first he leaned on the door, took a breath, and closed his eyes. He had to do the task he set out to do, but a reflection on the events of the night before clouded his thinking. He wondered what had been the last stand, the final piece that had altered him. He said "Ah," quietly to himself as he realized that his vanquisher had been the most powerful force in the universe. _Love._

He turned his attention toward an engraved ornate door and walked toward it. As he pushed the door with both hands, the smell of roses, and the rich gleaming red of the Scarlet Carsons empowered him. He took a deep breath. V removed his gloves, put his dagger in his belt temporarily, and stood in the isle to reach his hands out on either side of him. He touched the vibrant flowers…

Many moments past and V found himself in the middle of the Gallery looking around at its contents.

He walked over to the piano, lifted the cover, and seated. His hands lightly rested on the keys as he thought of what to play. A smile crept on one side of his face as played "Funeral for a Friend". The notes rang out to the respect of its composer.

---------

The sound of piano woke Evey as she took in a deep breath and yawned. The room was completely dark and she rubbed her eyes in that darkness, then sat upright. Her hand went to the top the comforter and felt some thing strangely familiar. She stretched and turned on the lamp overcome by the brilliance of the carefully arranged roses. They completely covered the bed. She picked one up and brought it to her face. The thought of V cutting his precious gems and placing them on the bed while she slept was doting and romantic.

Never had she felt so loved by a man and never had she felt that she had ever loved any other. She smiled back at the roses, but really to herself for being able to find a measure of happiness in a desperate world.

She pulled the covers back and realized that she had nothing to wear. There were large towels in the small bathroom that joined the bedroom. Her body ached as she stood. She turned on the light and looked around to see if there was anything different about the way that he would groom himself other than expensive colognes and the like. Nothing unfamiliar.

She remembered that during their love making the night before, she attempted to touch him. To touch his face. His head. Anything that would give her a clue of his appearance. He eventually grabbed her hands asked her if she would prefer if he tied her up. Not waiting for her response, he tied her up anyway, as his desire for her became more profound. She wanted him to feel at ease. She felt her heart skip a beat at the thought of seeing him, the man that she knew him to be now that they were lovers. Evey grabbed a large towel, wrapped it around herself and went to follow the source of the music. She stopped abruptly by a draft coming from a far wall in the bathroom.

Her eyes narrowed to a small seam in the wall that went to the floor and up to what resembled a doorframe.

_She touched it._

V heard his bedroom door open and immediately stood to see his beloved wrapped in a towel carrying a single rose and smelling it. He smiled underneath the mask and looked at her face as she immerged. She had this kind of childish playful look on her face.

"I must say you look quite happy in your new choice of attire." He toyed with her and she blushed. "Ah, blushing are we? Good Morning to you too."

"Good Morning. And thank you for the beautiful roses. I presume they were meant for me?" Her eyebrow went up as she twirled it in her hand and walked over to him, handing it to him.

He took the rose and breathed in looking at it. "Last night was…" He paused deep in thought looking at the Scarlet Carson and then at her. "Let's just say you have me at a disadvantage, because there are no words for it." She reached and lovingly touched the mask to look into his face, speechless herself.

He placed the rose on top of the piano and looked down at the keyboard.

"Don't stop playing on account of me. You play brilliantly. I have never heard that piece before." V sat down again. "When did you learn how to play like that?" She gestured and sat next to him.

"I don't know." V said as he looked at his hands, and then withdrew them so she couldn't see them anymore.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"No, no. I guess I never thought about it before."

"Fascinating how the mind works. In its own defense it will remember only the things it wants to."

"Somehow that no longer matters to me." V looked at his hands again. "What only concerns me now is the present." He gazed at her and didn't say a word as if everything he felt couldn't be put into words.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. "Perhaps I can make you blush for me once more while I ravish you again." He whispered with that fiendish voice only used for his intended victims.

"That sounds wonderful. But I am afraid I am quite sore from all of your ravishing throughout the night." They giggled as their noses went together and she felt the warmth of his strong embrace. "And I am also quite starving."

V laughed. Evey listened, amazed that she had never heard him truly laugh before. There was that one time when she first met him in the alley, but that was not the same type of laughter. This came from someplace way deep inside of him. It was wonderful to hear, and very becoming.

"Then Evey, perhaps we shall make a date later this evening when you are feeling less…shall we say… contented?"

"Oh, you are such a sexy man." She beamed as she stroked his soft hair and looked into his face. This was a place where there were no barriers and she eagerly took advantage of the right of touch she earned. "Yes you are correct. Contented is a much proper word for it, and yes, it's a date."

"Very well then." He gently took hold of her hands looking down at them as he squeezed them. "I shall make us something to eat while you bathe, but I am afraid I will have to finish up some rather pressing business afterward." His voice took on a different tone that revealed his intent. Immediately Evey went to protest and stopped herself. She knew it wouldn't do any good. He must have noticed because it was almost as he was interrupting her thoughts.

"I will call upon you when I am done. In my estimation it will be sometime late this evening."

"I'll be looking forward to it." She stood up and adjusted the towel around herself as she walked away, her eyes staying with him until she was out of sight.

V sat for a few more moments after he put his leather gloves back on, then closed the piano cover. He thought about all of the arrangements that he had made, and wondered how Evey would take the news when he broke it to her. He would wait to tell her until this evening. He decided. He would tell her everything.

V put his apron on and went to making breakfast for the two of them, eating his portion before she came to sit down.

"What's this?" She looked at her plate smelling the food he had placed in front of her.

"Oh…uh…egg soufflé." He turned back to glance at her plate and then resumed what he was doing.

"This is wonderful." She said as she took another mouthful.

V didn't respond. His mood had become more ominous and brooding. Quite different from the person Evey encountered this morning. He seemed distracted and rushed through the task of cleaning before he returned to work. She was watching him the whole time while she ate. He removed his apron and started to walk away then stopped.

He turned his attention to her, forgetting his manners.

"I would prefer if you would find a more permanent residence in my bedroom from now on Evey. But please do not enter my chambers if I am not with you. I have …work that must be attended to, and I cannot afford for it to be brought awry at such a delicate time." He looked as if her were going to say more, and then decided not to.

"Alright." She nodded and looked at him with concern.

She was happy that he wanted her close to him, but she got the impression he was hiding something. Something that made him uneasy. Something that made him appear _fearful_.

V saw her expression change and went to her. He held her face with his gloved hand, his voice softened momentarily. "Don't worry Evey. I won't be long. And please wait up for me."

"I will." She assured him smiling as he looked down at her for a time.

V frowned underneath the mask and overlooked the dread that came between them like the face of death Romeo and Juliet exchanged before their final adieu. He backed away and paused before he rushed away into his dark corridor to his rooms. He was eager to start his work and went through the bedroom to the monitor room. There he watched the screens turn on. Nothing moved in any of the monitors, except V noticed there was a glass on the end table on the Chancellor's monitor that wasn't there before. V looked down at the control panel and hit rewind.

The images from last night came into view. V spotted the diary being read by what appeared to be the SSU General of the Marine Corps. Special Terrorism Unit. He recognized the special insignia the General wore on his badge plate. He rewound further and found the General accompanied by another man, possibly a Lieutenant. V could not see his face. He watched carefully at what transpired between them; the gleam of the General's eye and the exchange that they shared.

V knew it wouldn't be long before every citizen donned this nightmare and the slavery it created.


	14. Chapter 14

CH 14

Evey finished her meal and went over to the sink to wash her breakfast dishes. She thought of V's disposition and how it changed. It was obvious that he was distracted by something that he didn't wish to share. There was something thick in the air. It was almost a foreboding sixth sense. A feeling of doom. It wasn't just the things he said, or the way he said them, it was his body language. He didn't want to part with her, and struggled with the decision to stay. To see V this way made Evey on edge. After Evey finished cleaning, she sat on the leather sofa in front of the television. She picked up the remote and flipped though channels until she came to a news broadcast.

Reports of food and water ration lines and the SSU military violently keeping order from the throngs of people that protested their presence. Their flag had adorned some of the buildings and troops marched through the streets in unison.

There was a band of news flowing across the bottom of the broadcast, which read: BBC SPECIAL REPORT_: "10 PM military curfew… Anyone caught outside curfew will be taken into custody…SSU transporting all patients from Guy's and St. Thomas' Hospital to nearby medical facilities … SSU enforced Identity monitoring procedure for blocks "A" through "F" commencing tomorrow, please report to designated medical facilities …Norsefire former party member Brian Etheridge has been arrested on terrorism charges and crimes against humanity, if convicted he could face execution."_

Evey finally understood what made V so distressed. It wasn't the fact that the SSU had occupied England, or that they were in grave danger of being found. She knew he had a plan; that he always stayed leagues ahead of his opponent and that he would protect her and his country even if it meant his demise. It was more than that. He didn't like the SSU Identity Monitoring Chip. That _had_ to be it.

Evey heard of these devices in the past in the former U.S., but not to this extent. Over in the states, they had it completely implemented to the point that upon the birth of a newborn, the chip would be implanted under the skin. She had to admit. If V _was_ concerned about this, he was well justified. After all, never in history had any government gained so much power so quickly from the use of a device that could dictate free will so completely. The possibilities of such a thing were frightening and endless. Through it, any government could very well likely control the world.

And V is only one man.

Evey's clenched her fists and her palms began to sweat as she watched for further developments.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

V felt cold sweat on the back of his neck as he began his intricate work. He was in the room with all of the chemicals that he used for explosives. Wearing a lab coat and plastic surgery gloves, he decided to remove his mask and select a mask that would protect his face and eyes from light and heat. The area that he operated looked more like a sterile environment with metallic small pieces that he soldered and wired. He used a magnifying glass to view his work.

He would create twelve of these little darlings. And be sure to give them the tender affection that they needed. Not missing a place or spot, until he achieved the perfection he sought. Then he would test one out. He had an inspiration about that too. _She_ would never know. _Quite the delivery system_.

One complete. As he brought it up before his face, he cocked his head to the side. Brilliant. The tiny wheels could inflate on command, to compensate for rougher terrain. It still needed to be calibrated, so he grabbed a tiny instrument the size of a pin that was attached to a small unit with a wire and inserted it into the side. It squealed at first. Its wheels turned rapidly and then the resonance got to a higher and higher pitch until there was no sound. Silent. Small. About half the size in width of a business card, and about as thin as a cell phone. V looked toward the door, eager to try out his tiny masterpiece.

Evey looked absorbed in the news she was watching as V emerged from the rose room to the shadows. He had hoped that his white lab coat would not give him away and crouched down to put the device on the stone floor of the gallery. He faced it in the direction of Evey, and then stood to work the hand held remote. He pushed the small pointing device and the tiny vehicle took off and disappeared underneath the sofa where Evey sat.

V watched in amazement as he directed it to circle around her foot that was touching the floor, feeling proud of himself in the darkness at her obliviousness. He let it circle the sofa one more time just to be certain and maneuvered it to return to him. It stopped. To wait for its next command like a well trained dog. V covered his mouth with his hand and laughed at the irony. This was just too good to be true. He picked it up and went back into through the rose room to finish the rest of them. Then, all V had to do was add the volatile liquid explosive before going to the night to find them a _home_.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

The news had made Evey fidget and she couldn't get comfortable. To sit around and do nothing was torture and she wished that V were here to give her some reassurance. It would be a few hours yet before he would join her. Then they would discuss things and figure out what to do. She tried to read and to clean the gallery to get her mind off of things, but every time she would pass by the tele, something disturbed her eye; some vile attack on the innocent.

Perhaps if she started to make dinner that would serve as a distraction.

She went over to the stove and thought about it. Maybe a romantic dinner, some candlelight, would get her thinking of other things, since she was powerless at this point to do anything to help.

She found a roast in the refrigerator and seasoned it before baking in the oven. They would have a late dinner together, and she would discuss everything she knew and everything she learned, and then she would ask questions. She would find out what was troubling him and they would work out a solution together. Evey went into her bedroom to put on a lace bra and panty to peek through a short robe. She was checking herself in the mirror and her eye caught the business card Eric Finch gave her. He could very well be their way out if they needed him. There was something honest and sincere about him. She trusted him.

With the card in her hand, she checked on the roast, interrupted by yet another broadcast. One that made the card in her hand useless. On the Tele, Eric Finch was forcibly taken away in the back of a black truck, while the crowds around the scene were unstable, protesting. They tried to grab him. He was evidently under arrest. Evey had turned the volume down a while back and retrieved the remote to turn the volume back up as she sat down transfixed.

A female voice said, "It was not clear what he would be charged with at this moment… but former Norsefire member, Eric Finch has been arrested and detained by the SSU."

Reporters were scrambling to get a clear view of him before he disappeared into the back of the truck and the doors closed.

Evey's mouth hung open as she looked at his card in her hand. She had to notify V, something had to be done. She was not going to wait and let this situation get any worse. She got up from her seat and went to the bedroom to look for V.

"V?" She called out to him while she opened the door to the bedroom and knocked lightly.

"V?" She glanced around the bedroom. Then tried the doors to the rose room. She pushed them open, not paying any mind to the empty stems she saw scattered. "V? Are you here?" She yelled out this time.

If he were here, he would have heard her approach by now. She went back out into the hallway and tapped the business card in her hand as she went back to the bedroom. She opened the door and looked both ways first, and then looked around the dark room feeling her way to the bathroom. She turned on the bathroom light and looked behind her to see if she could find anything different.

The closet. One of his capes was missing. If she remembered correctly how many he owned. She looked at the ground thinking, and then her eyesight looked upon the small opening she had noticed before in the bathroom.

It looked like a doorframe. Evey skimmed it with her fingers and tried to find a way to open it. She looked around the bathroom for something to wedge between and found nothing. In the corner, she saw what appeared like a brick of metal. Surprised by the heavy weight of it, she brought it over to the door. It stuck with a force that startled her and she came to understand that this was not just any brick, but a powerful magnet. A secreted door knob. She pulled on it and the door opened inward revealing the blackness beyond.

"V?" She yelled out again into the pitch black and her voice echoed slightly.

Evey went through the door into the darkness and fell down a small flight of makeshift stairs feeling her ankle sprain as the heavy door shut behind her.

"Shit." She whispered in frustration.

"V?" She was in complete darkness now as she scrambled to her feet to limp back up the stairs.

"V!" She screamed loudly gripped with fear.

She panicked furiously scratching to find the opening again realizing that evidently, this was an exit only.


	15. Chapter 15

Ch 15

Lieutenant Commander, Daron S.Carl, M.D., served as a scientist and a pathologist with the Sovereign Security Marine Corps for almost fifteen years. He knew General Dan Quaid personally for nearly twice as long and saw his rapid, often disquieting advancement in rank in a short amount of time.

The Marine Corp. used Dr. Carl's expertise at home and abroad in the development and distribution of the IMS chip. He's now a key person in other more top-secret missions for the General and the SSU as well.

"Carl." He carried an unmistakable gruffness that the doctor recognized immediately.

"Dan, Sir. Good to hear your voice. So sorry to hear about Doris." The remark came with a hint of sarcasm. Carl could swear he heard the General grin.

"Thank you for your condolences Doctor." General Quaid got right into the reason for his call. "I assume you received the duplicate of the memoir that I sent you."

"Oh yes, I did, I did." The doctor hesitated as he looked down into the paperwork on his desk, and shuffled around unable to control his hands.

"And?" Quaid said rudely.

Dr. Carl breathed in and then his voice became more relaxed, "I have to level with you Dan. I'm a bit perplexed on the whole thing. Is this for real?"

"Apparently so. We've been going over the logs and records of our late English predecessor, and it seems that he was quite anxious about the whole thing before his assassination. More details should be coming. But in answer to your question, yes, he is real, and we think very much alive."

The General picked up a photo of V taken the night he saved Dominic in the alley. The eyes from the white mask glared back at him.

The doctor sat up in his chair and removed his glasses. He leaned his arm on the paperwork that cluttered his desk. 

"Is that right?" A brief pause of disbelief and then the level of excitement changed in his voice. "That's great news. That's great news." He trailed off. He wanted to ask how close they were to his capture, but thought it best to let the General manage that part, feeling uncertain of the level of secrecy.

The moment triggered an answer that Dr. Carl was not prepared to hear. "The operation is already in its second stage, eventually he'll turn up." 

"Already in its second stage?" He asked. "I thought for certain it would take longer. I…I guess I should congratulate you, General." The confidence that the General exhibited, made Dr. Carl relax and feel more satisfied that he would get what he wanted.

"That really won't be necessary," General Quaid became more authoritative. "I didn't phone you to gloat over my accomplishments Lieutenant. I merely want to know if _it_ is possible."

Dr. Carl knew what _it_ meant. He also knew too much about the questionable activities that the SSU was involved in. So much so that the General insisted on his being the first to receive the IMS chip. Not that it would matter anyway, if Quaid really wanted someone gone, he could make them vanish as if they never existed. An uncomfortable reasoning, but truth nonetheless. 

Dr. Carl swallowed hard. "Wh…well, I think it will take ti--"

"That's not the answer I want to hear Lieutenant! Now is it yes? Or no?"

It had to be yes or he was a dead man. There was not enough reason to keep him alive with all this knowledge. He could almost hear the General roll his eyes on the other end of the phone. 

"In my professional opinion? Yes, it's possible. But I test these types of hypotheses on scientific fact and physical evidence. These cellular anomalies, there's still so much that we don't know. Th… this could be just an isolated case. They have to be researched before I can give a full and complete report. That means tissue samples and blood samples--"

"I get your point!" Quaid spoke so forcefully it made the doctor recoil.

There was uncomfortable silence on the line. The doctor opened his mouth to speak.

"I expect your arrival at the hospital at Nineteen Hundred hours."

"Yes, sir."

The line clicked and the ring tone returned. 

Dr. Daron Carl pulled the cell phone away from his ear pushed the off button. He felt excitement at the opportunity to examine such a case, and yet, felt an overwhelming urge to finalize things at home before his departure to London. 

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

General Quaid stood and moved the window blind behind him to peer outside across the River Thames at what was left of Parliament. The operation was going better than planned and he felt thrilled to be part of it. By this time next week, _Phase Two_ will be complete. 

With all of London blockaded, and of its residents immobilized as new recipients of the surveillance chip, Codename V will not be able to escape. An additional benefit that the General originally hadn't counted on. All defectors and wayward society would be taken into custody at his command. He turned around to face the door of his new office at the St. Thomas Hospital, eager now to see this through with one more small detail…

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

The holding cell was once a prosthetics laboratory, now vacant of the forged arms and legs. Finch assumed this because only the dust and the paint marks from the cast moldings remained. There were abandoned workstations lined up on either side of the room and it seemed they allowed him to look at this now, or maybe they just wanted him with his back faced at the door.

He hadn't noticed that his hands were numb until he tried to wiggle his fingers. The pain shot up his arm from the tight binding used to tie his hands behind him. Finch stared at the grey speckled floor and then his eyes moved to the table in front of him. He had a throbbing headache from the hit on the head and he wondered if Dominic had received the same fate.

Up until he awoke, he wore a white bag on his head and now it was lying on the table spotted with his blood as a reminder. The military used white bags to cart away their prisoners of war and hostages. No carting people away in black bags or dead of night assaults here. No, certainly not. They were shooting people in the streets in the brightness of day as if they had nothing to hide, as if the whole world should witness. Finch wrinkled his chin. How ironic for him to be in this situation now. Finch wished they would just kill him and get it over with.

Just then, he heard footsteps approaching behind him. The door creaked open and shut He heard someone breathe behind him.

More footsteps outside of the room. This time whoever entered walked heavier with a slower stride. A highly decorated general passed and came around to face him at the other end of the rectangular table. He had a file in his hand.

The General stood straight. Male Caucasian, six foot four, with salt and pepper hair cut military short. His skin looked ruddy, yet he appeared polished, and pristine. The most intimidating thing about him was his blue eyes that didn't look away. The general looked down at the open file in his hands and then directly into Finch's eyes once more, the white pages reflecting on his face. Finch moved uncomfortably in his seat and lowered his gaze.

"Chief Inspector Finch is it?"

Finch's heart raced. He didn't answer and just stared at the floor.

The General laughed to himself and took in a deep breath. "Do you know what we do with government officials convicted of terrorism? _Mr. Finch_?"

Finch felt a fist slam into his rib cage. He yelled out, doubled over out of air, and coughed as he went down. The pain made him gasp for breath. "What do you want from me?" He paused to regain himself. "And what is a general from the SSU doing in London?" Finch glanced at him with his head down, his arm holding his stomach.

The general nodded to the person behind Finch. 

His binds came off. Finch immediately brought his hands together to rub his wrists.

"See now? If we work together things will get much easier." General Quaid looked away. "All we want is information on Codename V."

The inspector cocked his head to the side and squinted. "He's dead."

"How do you know this?"

"I saw his body--"

"You watched him die?"

"No…I…he was on the train that destroyed the Houses of Parliament."

"Yes, I saw your report inspector. _But_ you didn't watch him die did you?"

"No, but I'm certain he was dead." _Where are they going with this?_

"And what about Evey Hammond?"

The inspector said nothing. This time Finch felt a heavier blow in the same spot of his ribcage. He coughed, sure, that at least one of his ribs were broken if not more as he doubled over and screamed in pain.

"I don…ah." His eyes winced, "I don't know where she is. She disappeared the night he died." He wouldn't have told them anything even if he did know her whereabouts.

General Quaid sighed. "Very well, Inspector." 

Finch looked at the General and knew what was coming. He held his stomach and closed his eyes as the image of Evey's sweet face came to mind.

The General collected the file, and walked around the table, past Finch. He hesitated, before glancing at Hass in the eyes, and then exited the room.

Hass pulled out his pistol.

General Quaid heard the thunderous sound of a gunshot echo behind him. He walked down the hospital corridor, so very pleased with the idea of handling this small situation himself.


	16. Chapter 16

CH16

Leaving the Shadow Gallery, V frowned behind the mask as the winter air hit him. There was some wind tonight. A cloud cover hung low to add a reflective brightness to the city. The ground appeared damp from a light drizzle creating further assistance for the enemy and not very good conditions for what he had in mind.

He walked in confidence in spite of all the elements against him, and handled his cape against the evening chill, but his mind wasn't there. His mind was on Evey and the warmth she afforded him.Every now and then, he had to bring himself back, shaking off the diversion of the Gallery. _Have to get back to her._

As he turned the corner to Victoria Street, his footsteps echoed louder than before, but it didn't slow his pace. As nightfall occurred in the city, the streets became vacated although curfew was still hours away. He would use this emptiness to his advantage, but it was a grim sign things were turning more perilous than they used to be.

V chose Ten Downing as his first destination. He took pleasure in the thought of annihilating the underground residence and the building above, then reached into his breast pocket to secure his little explosive treasures. If the snipers positioned on the flanking rooftops by the SSU Military were equipped with motion detectors, it would make things trickier, but there was assurance of success.

The second target would take longer and he needed to disguise himself in order to distribute the explosives effectively. It would take time, but he would have it complete before the start of curfew at ten.

Then, he would go back to the Gallery and sit with Evey to reveal his plans for their future. _Evey_.

He stopped short and caught sight of Scotland Yard, now crawling with SSU, and English Army combatants armed with sophisticated weaponry. Hiding himself across the street, he moved in closer to have a cleaner view.

The SSU modernized M16A1 assault rifles equipped with M203 grenade launcher were standard issue at present, but for V no equivalent. The contents of his inner pocket were more threatening and internecine. Leaning his back up against the wall of the adjacent building, he took a risk of peered around a cornerstone.

_Three .Five. Nine_. There were many of them, but as long as his operation turned out successful, they would never know he was near; at least not until it was too late.

_Exposure_. That would be his detriment and the reason he would unleash his wrath from a distance.

He stretched his neck and looked down the building's width to find the round about way. If he went around a few buildings he would end up on Victoria Street once again, which was exactly where he needed to be. Not waiting until he could change his mind, he sprinted through the plaza of a large office complex.

_Euphoria_.

He did what gave him meaning, and for him there was no greater elixir. His breath was heavy, but not from exertion, it was the thrill.Yes_. The thrill_. _The darkness. The game…yes…Oh… and the vantage of this viper vandalizing the vulnerable, vicious, and virulent. _

V withdrew his amusement and attempted to focus on Scotland Yard in the distance. He stayed close to the buildings that lined Victoria, so as to resemble a manifestation, a specter, a vestige in the corner of an eye as he went on his way. He would stop and look at his surroundings, considering whether to reroute his journey by way of rooftop or remain on the ground.

Within moments, V passed through Parliament Square, and peered at the remains of Parliament and Big Ben. The smell of smoke and thickness still lingered with the misty drizzle that rippled in the dim night air.

V stopped under the unlit London city light and looked up, the glass housing either missing or in fragments. His gaze lowered. He went to the edge of the Thames to see the horizon and the vacant city line. It looked foreboding and unwelcome. His eyes searched for signs of life, and rested on the immanent casualty, the façade now aglow.

_Animated. Waiting._

The rain came harder. The drops that hit his Jacobean hat drowned out the silence. A wind gust snapped his cape, reminded him, nudged him, and pressed him further. He obliged with more haste, wary of the time spent wandering.

He turned at last; Ten Downing appeared before him, plain and unremarkable. It remained hidden and almost unbefitting a city with such impressive architecture as the finely balanced pillars and arches of Westminster Cathedral, and the Victorian sculpting of Westminster Abbey. He covered himself in the shadow across the glistening cobblestone lane.

Keeping himself from discovery, he moved out to the open visibility of Parliament Street.

The Cenotaph close behind adorned the SSU flag of stars encircling the image of a human profile from the neck up. The eye a sunburst of light. Created to invoke fear and through it, control. For V it strengthened his resolve and made the need to retaliate even stronger.

He scanned for snipers, and only found two-- one atop a Ten Downing building, the other directly above. Their focus was the gate of 10 Downing. Two MP guards stood on either side of the gate, and surveyed the surrounding area.

Eyeing the wrought iron fence and the structure beyond, V crouched low resembling Spy vs. Spy without the counterpart. The masked grin a suitable ensemble for this frolic.

His hand went into his tunic and removed the soft cloth casing, treating it gently and placing it on the ground. He unfolded each side of the fabric and revealed the small robotic objects within. These were the most advanced explosive devices he had ever created. Using six for this structure would be enough to wipe out all of these buildings and the surrounding area.

That left six for the other target.

V lifted one between gloved thumb and forefinger, and placed it on the ground as if it were a fine piece of crystal. Reaching for the remote in his trouser pocket and standing up, he observed the armed guards; remaining patient for the proper time.

This was the most critical time of his operation. The SSU might see and hear the resonance blip on radar when the machines were in motion, so they had to reach their destination speedily.

_Opportunity._

V shifted the remote at once, and watched the wheels spin and bounce over the cobblestone, slipping, zipping through the fence, to rest against the building within. Like a silent little army of rats, V deployed them one by one.

Then another.

Only two more. One of them halfway to target.

Both guards stiffened and as if they sensed something wrong. They scanned the exterior.

The stranded robot stayed for the moment, fixed in the peripheral vision of the left MP. V pushed the toggle forward. _Go!_

Trapped again. This time almost underfoot. V could feel beads of cold sweat that formed on his forehead. If the soldier stepped an inch sideways, it would explode.

_Quiet. Wait for it._

_Now!_

He summoned it alive past the guard. Had V waited, they would all be dead.

Only one more to go.

Position.

Ready.

Dispatched.

_It worked._

Solitude was not an option for this moment. If it were, the night would fill with the deafening sound if triumph.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Somewhere beneath the muted light of a crippled city, beneath the rain soaked pavement and layers of black earth, beneath the onslaught, the suffering, and the malevolence, hid an ancient channel.

_A tunnel._

An original passageway used by a man with an idea, whose foiled attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605, caused his torture and eventual execution for treason.

Deep in this abandoned testament of the past, a woman's eyes widened with the futile effort to compensate for the darkness and tried to scratch her way back into the warmth and light of the Gallery.

"God."

_Oh my God. God no._

_No._

Injured and alone, her heart filled with heightening terror from the awareness of her situation. Evey grappled at the door, eventually succumbing to failure. Bending at the neck, the ceiling seemed low enough to be uncomfortable.

"V." Gathering her robe around her, she felt her knees giving in. She steadied herself, and tried to think of a way out.

She waited and waited.

Her only companion, the sound of her breathing…

_Gasping. Catching. Gasping. _Echoing, as she looked around for any sign of light. Trying to ignore her phobia of the pitch black that consumed and covered her like a constant shroud, Evey wiped the tears that stung her eyes.

_Have to move._

She felt the cold ground beneath her feet, and shivered. She stepped, the pain in her ankle shot up her leg. _The pain._

_It's cold…so cold._

Panicking…shaking… foraging…her hands stretched out in front, reaching for anything remotely familiar, a_nything_. She stumbled to an earthen wall, searching it…scanning with her palms for direction.

_Stop-stop-STOP!_

Crumbling at her touch, a cool mound of soil fell at her feet.

_I could be buried alive. _The thought ripped at her consciousness making her heart slam in her chest._ What the hell is this place?_

Evey strained sucking in the cold musty air. Resistance from the lack of oxygen caused pain in her chest.

_Hurting…lungs…no…can't go there._

She backed away searching, blindly probing all different directions. _So cold._ She was freezing in her small robe and undergarments, but her palms were sweating and the hot tears stung her face.

_The fear…_as unforgivable and unyielding as madness and the threat of it now crippled her reasoning ability. She needed air. She had to get _out_.

_Give up…give up._

"V! Get me out of here!" She yelled with her face upward at the top of her lungs, and heard it rebound in the distance. Detached and isolated, Evey tried to compose herself. She quaked uncertain if it was the result of the temperature in this place or the fear and longing for the security of what she knew to be home. _Home. Will I ever see it?_

Folding her arms around herself, she squeezed her eyes shut, and doubled over to cry.

Wait.

A sound. So small.

The hair on the back of her neck stood and spread across her shoulders. Something moved the dirt, in the distance behind her. S_cuttling!_

Yelling out, she bolted limping on her ankle-_the pain._

_Run. Run!_

"Oh my God, oh my God!"

"GOD!"she screamed. It pierced and shattered her inner being, the sound of footsteps cascaded all around her, the place came _alive_.

Run.

Crying, gasping, echoing. _Run_. _Oh the stale air_. _Run_. The decay, it filled her lungs.

_Push! Push forward! Keep going!_

_Behind me. _

_Them._

_Faster. Run._

_Have to stop…can't…can't breathe…out of breath…no…not this… please…not asthma…please not now… God…don't panic…don't panic._

_Keep running… fast…fast…can't let them get me._

_Gasping…catching…wheezing…catching._

_Run._

_No slow down…have to stop._

_Stop._

_Stop! _

_Don't breathe. Slow, try not to breathe._

_Listen._

_Am I hallucinating?_

_Nothing._

_Nothing, gone._

Evey took in a deep inhale. The torment and her relentless terror of the dark threatened to swallow her once more.

_V._

Fear of man, something V nullified, perhaps forever. Evey was angry at the time, now grateful. Most of her childhood fears were all deeply entrenched into her human psyche, a necessary element to create a delicate balance. There are _many_ fears though, some more frightening than any man.

_Am I dead? Is this what death is? Is this how it feels? Nothing?_

_Gasp._

_Catch._

_Breathing…mine?_

_Stop._

"Is someone there?" Evey could hear the question move ahead repeating in the void before her fading out.

_Behind then? _She turned around sharply.

Someone here _with me?_

She could hear the breathing behind her threatening, menacing, _wanting_.

_R_eaching for her!

_Buried alive_.

"No!" She sobbed and ran dragging her foot behind her, uncertain if this was for real or her mind playing tricks on her.

"God…no!" She screeched so loud it filled the darkness.

_Run._

Pain shot up her leg into her groin.

_Run!_

Clutching her abdomen with her arm, the asthma was overpowering her. _Run!_

_You're gonna die here. _The words repeated in her mind from the time she was a prisoner. She remembered how ruthless they were, how they cut her insides like a razor.

_Faster._

_No!_

She fell to the floor panting.

I …

…I can't

…I can't breathe.

_You faced your death…_

Asthma.

…_you were calm you were still._

Inhale.

…_commit yourself to it._

_The pain._

_You faced your death Evey, you were calm you were still. Try to feel now what you felt then._

…_what you felt then._

_His_ voice in her head. Evey remembered the moment. His gloved hands on her face. The warmth spread through her whole body.

_You were calm. _

Releasing her. Freeing her.

_What you felt then._

Remember…slow…remember… inhale…exhale.

…_you faced your death._

_Evey._

Evey coughed and sucked in some dirt with a great lungful of air. Propping herself on the ground, she could smell the clay, the soil, rich in minerals, and the stagnating water. And something else, something poignant and familiar, a different scent that didn't belong.

Evey knelt and then stood, shaken. She wiped away the tears and grime from her forehead with her arm. She recalled the sounds and picked herself up, hastening forward.

_Move_.

She walked, trying to bury whatever loomed in the darkness to the recess of her mind. _This was all in my mind, just a bad dream_. Her only concern now was her escape from this place and her way back to the Gallery. She would find a way out. She would find her way back to him. She wasn't going to die here. Not here, not alone in this place.

_Keep going_. _Keep moving._

_Wait._

_Something._

Orange. Dull. Orange that twinkled far in the distance. Shifting somehow. _Strange_. Was she imagining it? She blinked to try to get a better view. She squinted and hobbled towards it.


	17. Chapter 17

Ch17

Going west through the Arches, V headed for St. James Park to retrieve his disguise. He eased passed a careless SSU guard who was far more interested in something that lay beyond on the other side of Parliament Street to notice his presence in the proximity.

_I had rather have a fool make me merry, than experience make me sad. _V considered the reference, and hid along the passageway while the mask leered in ridicule. He contemplated the steps and the route he would use to the other target, while foraging along a scarlet oak tree for his new guise. Without delay, he exchanged mask for beard, then gloves, cape, hair, and hat, and finished off the heavy dark coat over his tunic…

William Rookwood straightened his clothing and adjusted his lapels. With a firm shrug on the cuff of each sleeve, he grabbed the cane that leaned against a tree. Spectacles. He needed spectacles. Reaching into his breast pocket, V stopped to put them on.

He practiced a limp to his step while walking past 202 Innocents. Its giant marble globe with engraved doves a remembrance of the people killed in an act of terrorism. V stopped for a moment. To look at it made him feel indignant at the needless loss of life. _Oh, the paradox of this terrorist turned martyr._

He rounded the corner and saw the lights of Westminster Bridge in the distance. His performance would begin from this point on.

_Just an old man enjoying an evening stroll. _

V got closer, moving slower than he would prefer, towards an SSU officer who was guarding the bridge opening.

"Evening." V said, as he nodded his head and lifted his cane to display the gesture of a proper English gentleman.

The officer stayed at attention, ignored him, and stared into space.

_Drone_.

On the bridge, V listened to the waters edge crash against the seven suspension arches that made it famous. They seemed insignificant to this new occupation. The SSU lacked the fundamental understanding of historic culture and refinement. Their regard of such things abandoned them long ago, with their morals and respect for humanity. Or maybe V liked to think that way. That they were all bad, all wrong. Either way, they wouldn't live through the night, and justifiably so.

In the middle of the bridge, at the peak of the bend, V stopped. He wished he could stare out at the water longer, and feel the tranquility and harmony possessed by former onlookers, but the Thames behaved as if it had experienced agitation by something that didn't belong. His gaze rested upon St. Thomas' Hospital teaming with activity. He heard their voices and wanted to run to them. The surge of adrenalin flowed through his veins and became just short of intolerable, but he stayed calm. Feeble. Rookwood.

As he approached the hospital garden, he could see lights reflecting up from the fountain and hear the droplet sprays that hit the water in the circular pool. There were SSU officers, and civilians entering and leaving the building. Guards were positioned at every entrance, but V didn't _need _to go in.

He passed around the courtyard edge of the hospital buildings and stayed close to the road, should he need to make an escape. The plan? Drop the devices through a small tear in his trouser pocket, and then out on to the hospital lawn to await his final command.

Each stride took on new meaning. The limp. The drop. One at this building. Two at the next. Until he circled around the whole perimeter of the hospital, and found his way back to the garden.

Some guards noticed him. _He knew they had to eventually_. Two approaching officers dressed in camouflage stopped ahead to wait. V leaned on his cane taking his time, resembling an old man having difficulty walking.

"Halt." One of them said, holding out his hand. "Identification, and what are you doing walking the street at night, sir?"

"Oh, right." Rookwood replied, his hands were shaking and fumbling into the pockets of his trench coat, "Ah here it is. Here it is." He presented his fake I.D. to the officer who held out his hand to examine it. They both read it.

"Rookwood." They acknowledged the name to each other. "What are you doing out tonight Mr. Rookwood? And why haven't you received your new identity device?"

"Oh, my apologies, but my doctor says to _walk_ the rheumatoid arthritis every night," V hit his leg with the cane. "Oh, and if I am not mistaken, I am scheduled for the procedure the day after tomorrow."

The two guards eyed each other.

"The letter R is in two days, I believe."

"He's right." The officer on the left, said.

"Right." The other said addressing V. "You'll need to be getting home sir. Curfew will be in effect soon," he said, and returned the identification to V.

"Er…thank you, gentlemen. Cheerio then." He continued limping, and left the guards behind.

V saw movement in the corner of his eye. Inconspicuously, he studied two_ other _men. One was dismounting a horse, and the other wore a hood that concealed his face. He kept focus on them and confirmed the identity of the general. The man with the hood could be the lieutenant, but V was uncertain.

He tilted his head up, eyeing the hospital, and then watched the general enter the building; he tipped his hat with his cane.

A salute and a farewell.

To the west side of Westminster Bridge, V had only one more task to make the night complete. Move his silent little army into position. Rookwood needed to change back to V first. The representation, the idea, and his vendetta, was incomplete without the grin. The mask was a celebration of the personage he exhibited... _yes…_a necessary and vital element to his conclusion.

After he changed, V felt pleased to be himself once more.

A switch on the remote and the tires inflated on each tiny creation he summoned, so they could move over the grassy terrain, due west, south, east, and north. He performed this just outside of St. James Park, and remained carefully hidden. The signal was more than long enough for the function.

V put the remote in his pocket and wandered to the waters edge, where he allowed the darkness to engulf him. Staring out to the target and the city line across the water, V tried to remember ever seeing this view in the daylight. He longed for a memory, sometimes speculating and imagining what his life was like _before_. No matter. Tomorrow would be different, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Yet, still the want confounded him and kept him in silent regard as if he could still sense emotionally of _what_ he had no recollection. He was sure he must have loved once. He still felt it. Perhaps he would never know, and the former days now bereft of a familiar voice, would haunt him forever.

A gull shrieked, and took off in flight from the wrought iron bridge. It sailed into the dark sky to escape some new rain. V watched, amazed at the wingspan. His eyes followed the bird's path over his head. V's gaze settled on the length of the road behind him.Yellow siren lights rotated without sound. Circulating to inform citizens of curfew.

_Curfew_.

V bound into the array of flashing lights that encompassed Victoria Street, having one thought in his mind. Evey.

_Evey_!

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

It was not long before Evey felt the effect of what she saw in the dark. Her eyes squinted to keep her focal point. _The orange flickering_. But the sting caused her eyes to tear.

The smell got stronger too. It went from a slight decay smell, to a caustic sulfuric odor, and then burned her nose. Whatever this was, she was getting closer to it.

The twinkling, then the nausea, and then the burning followed. Every step, every mouthful of air ripped into her lungs like tiny shards of glass. She covered her nose and mouth, and the coughing slowed her down.

_This is smoke! What the hell?_

_Down!_

Evey dropped to the ground remembering the fire drills from her childhood. The air was better on the ground. Still, it hurt to breathe as she crawled toward the orange. It had to be the way out. She couldn't go back. _They_ were back there. Her heart pounded in her chest with a new distress. If this was fire, she needed to get out of here quickly_, or die._

She stopped. Coughing spasms and choking, made her wretch on the ground. She was taking in air, but it was too much. The thickness enveloped her. _Hurry-move_! She crawled faster feeling heat as the ground escalated.

_Almost there, almost on top of the orange cinders_. Evey started to climb. There was debris, large rocks, and cement blocks and they were warm to the touch, then hot. _Hot. _Some of them looked like coalsand she tried to avoid them while ascending upward. _A wall._ Her palms touched it, then dug and scratched it with her nails. She moved smoldering pieces of rock or brick. Wheezing she needed air-

_God._

_You're gonna die here._

_Can't breathe._

_My chest hurts so bad_. She coughed uncontrollably; phlegm spewed out of her nose and mouth in an effort to rid itself of the carbon monoxide poisoning her body. She couldn't fight it anymore and caved into the relentless smoke and rank that covered her. She collapsed atop of the warm mound. She was losing consciousness from the lack of air. _Hurts to breathe_. Her arm reached out for the wall with her palm faced upward.

Her chest heaved a few times and stopped.

_Yes, I will die here. _There was a level ofacceptance as she embraced death, a last breath a moment away. She spiraled into a blackness of her own. And then…

Silence.

_Drop. _

Her hand moved and twitched.

_Drop_.

Evey closed her outstretched hand touching the moisture in it. More drops covered her hand waking her. Droplets sizzled when they hit the orange amber making it smoke. More and more drops made her hand wet. She felt it. Her wet hand stroked her face. She could smell the ozone the air the freshness in it.

Rain.

_Rain!_

It _enlivened_ her. Evey choked and scrambled. A way out. She finally found a way out. She got over on her knees, and held her breath, burrowing through where her hand had been, clambering with a new urgency. _The cold air_. She made a hole and put her face in it, breathing in the sharp air, and sucked in.

_Dig! Go through it. _Evey dug her hands in with every ounce of strength she could muster and forced her body through.

The sudden oxygen hit her lungs and doubled her over gasping and crying. Out into the light, the wet ground, and mud, she splashed into the puddle that now surrounded her. With her face toward the sky and her eyes closed, she welcomed the cold breeze. The rain bathed her face and her soot covered body. Evey knelt with her arms stretched out in recognition of her deliverer.

Rain. _God is in the rain!_

The sound of her cries danced through the remains of Parliament behind her. A snap of lightning fissured the sky.


	18. Chapter 18

Evey Hammond looked behind. Parliament. Stunned by the image she beheld, she stared for a while in the pouring rain. More lightning illuminated the ruins as if marking it, condemning it as hell on earth.

Wiping the water from her face and eyes, she observed her surroundings. The frigid air wheezed into her body, and her chest ached. _What was in that place? Was I dreaming? _Evey wondered if what she had experienced in that horrid place was the effect of the smoke that poisoned her body, and caused delusions. Her head pounded, her body was sore, and nausea threatened for a release. She needed to get to a hospital. V would know what to do.

Out of the mud, Evey stumbled as she tried to walk; the pain in her ankle reminded her of her injury.

Victoria Street's flashing lights and curfew seemed trivial in comparison to the abyss that she just came from. Determined to get home, she ran as best she could through the deserted streets of London keeping her mind focused on the prize waiting at the end. It wouldn't be long before she reached Victoria Station at this rate, and her heart jumped at the prospect of seeing V. There was no one on the streets, _no one_, and that suited her just fine as she slipped past Scotland Yard, which appeared deserted now as well.

The rain stopped. Evey stopped running, and ducked into the shadow of a porch overhang. If she stayed motionless for too long, the cold would sink into her bones, so she took a moment to look around and catch her breath.

Dripping water ran into gutters and made clanking noises all around her. She looked at the ground, then at her clothing or lack thereof. No shoes. The bra and panties scarcely covered anything, and the silk bathrobe seemed useless now saturated with rain. She laughed; glad to be rid of the plague of fear and death she experienced.

At the end of Victoria, Evey stopped short and almost fell forward.

The SSU military cut off the station entrances. Men in camouflage with guns shouted orders and there was a small vehicle close by as they assembled. Evey got the impression that they found something, and were preparing for a search and seizure. Not a good sign. She wondered if they had found the location of the Shadow Gallery.

Evey decided to make her way back to her small flat just outside of Paddington Station. It was the only place she could think of. At least she could put some clothing on and get warm. She wouldn't need to stay long…

The journey through Hyde Park was unnerving and she kept looking over her shoulder. The darkness made the trees appear as if they were extending long limbs across the pathway, reaching out for innocent prey. Her heart thumped in her chest and the sharp pain in her ankle traveled up her leg. Evey came to a halt.

_Strong hands grabbed her_. They covered her mouth and wrapped around her arms as she struggled for freedom from the clutches of her assailant.

"Evey, it's me!" A male voice said.

She fought to get away from the hold as he pulled her behind a tree on to the grass. She felt the arms release as she kicked and flailed and finally hit him in the groin.

"Argh!" He yelled out. Dominic doubled over and clutched his stomach.

"Bloody hell." He winced.

"You!" Evey cried. She attempted to comfort him, but she hovered, feeling awkward. "Are you alright?"

"What is it with you, anyway?" He shot her a glare.

"Well, you shouldn't have snuck up on me like that!"

"Will you keep your voice down!" He yelled, although he was probably just frustrated at her for kicking him in the groin.

"Oh, I …I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

The detective attempted to stand up straight. "Oh, I think I'll live." He said with annoyance as he tried to fix his unruly hair.

"How long have you been following me?" He looked a mess of sweat and filth.

"I don't think we should stay here," he said, as he looked around.

"What happened?"

"Shh. Let's go." He grabbed her hand and dragged her behind him. He walked too fast. They climbed the small fence that encircled the park, and looked both ways as they crossed the open road. He pulled her into a small alley tucked away on a side street. A trashcan with its lid left half-open gave off an odor.

He checked the place out, and then turned to Evey. "You alright?" He whispered.

Evey bent at the knees and faced the ground. "I…I think I'm gonna be sick-

"Yea, what the hell were you doing at the Parliament ruins? I saw you coming out of there."

"You saw me? You were following me since then?"

"There's carbon monoxide coming out of there! What were you doing in all that rubble?" He put a hand out to steady her and looked at her face to check her eyes in the little available light. His eyebrows came together in concern. His handsome face appeared ashen with circles around his eyes, or maybe it was a trick of the light. A large red wound marred his forehead and drew attention like a beacon.

"And what are you _wearing_?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow. Desire flashed across his face and disappeared.

"Ugh, it's a long story." She couldn't go there, she just couldn't.

"Is that for _him_?"

Evey stayed quiet.

"Blasted woman! I know he's still alive! I saw him. He saved my arse the other night." Dominic put his hands on this waist and checked outside the alley entrance again for their safety. "Where is he?"

"I don't know."

He took in a long sigh and put his head down, closing his eyes trying to think things through.

"What about you? What happened to your head?" She went to touch his injury.

"Please. Don't touch it," He moved away from her turning around.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"I think." The pain on his forehead was nothing compared to what he felt inside, and now she perceived, he was trying to hide it. He spoke with fullness in his chest and his voice cracked. "Aw Christ! I think they killed him."

Evey could hear torment in his words. His hand stroked the top of his head as he faced her. He looked beyond her, eyes filled with tears as they focused at something else.

Evey moved closer, taking his hands in hers.

"Hey." She got his attention. "Killed who?" She understood who "they" meant.

He looked down. "The Chief. Chief Inspector Finch." His eyes squeezed shut and the agony on his face revealed how much he cared for the inspector.

"No." Her stomach dropped. _That nice man. His face_.

She put her head down in an effort to try to conceal her own pain, and waited for the proper moment for her next question. "How? How do you know he got killed?"

"When I was being questioned, I heard a gunshot. I knew. I knew it was him." He frowned as if he tried to hold back the notion of him being gone. He swallowed hard. "I could feel it," His grief escalated. "Then they just let me go." He whispered.

Evey stared at him with her mouth agape. "Wait. Are you saying they captured _you_ and let you go?"

"Yea. Small favors right?"

Evey's heart stammered as the information struck her. "Oh my God!" Her eyes widened in terror.

"What? What is it?"

"Wait, wait. Stop, stop, stop! Pull up your sleeves--"

"What?" He looked at her as if she was insane.

"Pull up your sleeves! God dammit!" She shouted, and already moved to do the task herself.

His right forearm had bruise and a tiny incision mark.

"Oh shit!" She dropped his hand, and panicked. Evey backed away.

"What? What the hell is it? What'd they do to me?" Dominic studied his arm while moving toward her. "Hey! Evey don't leave!"

"You!" She put her hands up. "You stay away from me, please don't come near me." She said with dread. Tears streamed down her face. "I…I'm sorry! I can't." She wanted so badly to help him. She could see his desperation. His large brown eyes pleaded in the darkness.

"Evey!" Dominic shouted as he grabbed hold of her arms.

"No, no! Please let me go!" She cried.

"Evey, I'm not gonna hurt you." His voice calmed. "Evey!" He tried to get her attention long enough to reason with her. "Evey, look at me."

Evey stopped and looked into his face. The intensity of his eyes sharpened and his hands squeezed her arms, tight.

Tighter… and then… _painfully tight_.

"Wha!" She looked at both of his hands. "Let go of me!" Then, Evey peered into his face. His expression distorted in pain. His hands gripped her and his fingers dug into her flesh.

She saw his eyes roll into his head and flutter. She screamed.

He let go. Putting his hands on either side of his head, he knelt on the ground. Evey grasped his shirt and the weight of his body almost pulled her on top of him. He contorted, and yelled out in agony. Dominic collapsed face down on the pavement. Evey bent, and tried to pull him back over--

Bright daylight. It flooded the small area.

Her head lifted. And oh, sunshine bathed the brick wall in front of her.

A booming heartbeat stifled all sound that slowed her every move.

Evey twisted and shielded her face with her arm. The SSU bore down on her. Their massive figures silhouetted the blinding light like black storm clouds that gathered in a clear sky. The unmistakable metallic sound of soldiers lifting their weapons cut the silence in unison-

"NO!" She screamed. Somewhere in Hyde Park, a group of birds took off in flight.

A smothering sensation and white. Then everything went black.


	19. Chapter 19

V.I.A. and the Gallery door opened allowing V to enter. Instantly a burning smell alerted him that something wasn't right. The heavy door closed and he rushed into the center of his home to scan the area.

The television blared, and alerted people of the capture and incarceration of Chief Inspector Eric Finch. A band of writing flowed across the bottom of the screen. The smell of a roast burning in the oven left a slight haze of smoke that lingered in the kitchen. V checked the oven contents, then slammed the door and turned the knob off.

"Evey?" He called out. The mask faced the ground and waited for her reply, fully knowing there would be none.

The door opened to a darkened bedroom except for a thin line of light that shined from within the bathroom. V crept over to the bathroom and pushed the door until it revealed the room's contents.

Empty.

The brick metal doorknob was still in place on the hidden door. _Evey went through the tunnel_.

"No. No!" He scowled as he rushed to open the door.

From the blackness, a door opened in space that seemed to float on nothing. Its occupier behaved tormented to an extent that even a Guy Fawkes veneer could not hide.

"Evey. EVEY!" he screamed to the nothingness.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes opened. White. And agonizing pain in her head and neck. Her hands were tied behind her chair and the bind cut into her flesh. Voices and footsteps became louder, and a door opened and closed.

Evey shut her eyes and inhaled the white bag on her head. _Try to feel now what you felt then. _

Someone removed the bag. She opened her eyes slow on purpose.

A man with blue eyes sat across from her at the other end of a long rectangular table. He stared at her as he toyed with the overgrown nail on his pinky finger. Evey matched his stare, and observed his uniform at the same time. A General. A notion hit her of this being another one of V's tricks, but it couldn't be. No. This was real. The _proof_ now prepared to say something; the glare from his eyes nearly burned into her skull validating their terrible authenticity.

"Fearless, are we?" He bit the side of his lip and looked down at the pinky now tapping the table. "It seems we have a live one here, Lieutenant," he said, without looking up.

A chuckle sound came from behind. Evey startled from a manila file that slapped down on the table beside her. A hand pushed it. It slid to the officer with the blue eyes. The man gave her a dirty look and then opened the file in front of him. He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a pair of small reading glasses. While he leafed through photos and paperwork, Evey's eyes wandered.

A large room with stations along either side. Cabinets, paint marks, the smell of plaster, and dust, lots of it. _A hospital room?_ Speckled floor. On top of the black tabletop, a white bag, and a dry caked substance.

_Blood._

The man looked up. He observed her as she searched the table and the floor. Streaked blood. _It must be_. And small shavings of hair. Someone made an effort to clean and didn't do a good jobExpressionless, Evey let her vision settle back to the General, who smirked and stared at her again.

"Well, you've got quite a history here _Evey Hammond_. Seems you've been busy being elusive for the past year. _Our_ _boys_ at Scotland Yard have been up to their necks in it, actually." He continued turning pages, and then stopped to clasp his hands on top of the file. "Where have you _been_?"

Evey's face turned red as he sat waiting for a response. She could feel his irritability grow at her stoic expression. He removed his glasses and stood up, grasping something behind his back.

"I'm going to get right to the point Ms. Hammond. From this moment on, you will call me General, and you will SPEAK!" He pulled out his pistol with one hand and pointed it at her. "Or _die_."

Undaunted, Evey didn't budge. It wasn't because of her lack of fear, or death that threatened her. It was because she knew where he was going with his line of questioning. They didn't want _her_. They wanted V.

"What do you want from me?"

"Ah. She _speaks_. Smart girl." He withdrew his pistol and put it back into its holster. "There are always consequences Ms. Hammond. The advantage or the malediction, the choice is yours. Now, where _were_ we? Ah, yes! Your whereabouts for the past year."

"Living in a flat in Paddington Station."

"Oh, that's _rich_!" He laughed. "She was right under their noses the whole time." Someone snickered in the back of the room. "And um, where is that masked friend of yours…er…this Code Name V?" He asked, as he pinched his bottom lip with his two fingers.

Silence.

"He's dead."

"Ah. Well then." He spoke to someone behind her. "I guess we won't have to be saving you for anything."

An arm came around and grabbed her in a chokehold. She strained and flailed against the arm, but it was too muscular, too strong. It cut off her air and pulled her neck upward, and then let go.

"Care to change your story?" He asked.

Evey coughed and gagged on the fluid in her lungs.

"Now." He gestured at her lace bra, touching it with the end what looked like a leather riding crop. "I know that you didn't wear that for _me_." His face moved in close-very close. She could smell alcohol on his breath. Evey stared down at the table.

"Or did you?" He waited for a response, and when he received none he stood straight, his lower body almost touching her. He looked down at her. Thinking.

Evey got the impression that he had something in store for her to go along with her ensemble. It made her face hot, and her heart race.

"It's alright. We'll find out soon enough." He whispered, mocking a sexy tone. "You see, we have reason to believe _your friend_ is still very much alive, and when he finds out about your affair with _us_…well…it's just a matter of time before he comes here like a stilted lover."

She felt comforted at the thought and it must have shown on her face.

"Oh come, come now my dear. You don't actually believe he would be any match for four thousand Marines do you?" He paused and rubbed his chin. "Do you even _know_ who he is?"

Evey looked at him directly in his eyes as if to ask what he meant, and then quickly focused on the table once more.

"Could this be possible? You don't know the horrors that lurk beneath the mask?"

No response.

"Well, allow me to clarify." He smiled and turned his back at her and walked along the length of the table in the opposite direction. A finger slid on top of the granite. "Your friend, uh excuse me, _lover,_ is responsible for the St. Mary's outbreak."

That news hit her like a fist in the chest. She didn't believe it, but she still wanted to know what he had to say.

"It's _true_. He's a carrier… this…this _enigma_ you're whoring with. He's an experiment gone twisted. He should have died in a fire, but for some reason, he didn't. He survived! He survived fire! And now, he's loose on the world, this evil…this…this murderer…this…this TERRORIST!" The General worked himself up to a frenzy. His eyes crazed and wide now turned their attention back on Evey.

Something shattered inside of her, something in her gut said that this was truth. Proof cannot lie. _The bullets. No scars_. Her heart could not lie. _I watched him die… and yet…_

… _he lives._

The General collected himself and stroked an imaginary beard and mustache. He appeared as if he didn't quite know what to do with her. "Do you know how many lives you are putting in danger because of what you are doing? _Do you_?" He gestured at the blood on the table. "Did you _know_ Chief Inspector Finch?

Evey followed his eyesight to the table and the blood. She gasped. "NO! NO!" She screamed. "YOU MONSTER! You killed him! You killed him!" Evey tried to get loose from binds that were too tight. Her body lurched and tossed until an arm came around her and silenced her once more. She wept with her eyes squeezed shut.

"The one man." He interrupted, shaking his head and ignoring her. "That could _devastate_ our entire enhanced society." He bit his bottom lip and looked up in the air. He was losing his patience. He turned his attention to her once more.

"DO YOU WANT TO _DIE_?" He screamed.

He came closer to her again, his face brightened as if reacting to the question. He grabbed her chin and squeezed with such force. Almost nose-to-nose with her, he whispered."Who are you? W_hat _are you?"

His eyes were an inch away from her own. They stayed, those blue eyes that could cut glass, they stayed, and Evey saw nothing else. Then, he let go.

"Of course, we don't speak that way anymore in the Union." He laughed with his mouth closed and walked to retrieve the file, and then tapped the edge of it on the table. In haste, he made his way to the door.

"_Goodbye_, Ms. Hammond." The General passed her without looking at her.

It was all over. The arm from behind let her go. Evey felt her heart turn rapid with the knowledge of her death. The General gestured to the person behind her, and the door opened.

She heard the distinctive sound of a leather holster, and a clicking noise. A pistol.

The door opened again, and the General's voice whispered. "_Wait_."


	20. Chapter 20

A recurve crossbow against four thousand Marines was not the ultimate choice, but it was the only one he had. He scanned the crossbow length while he walked in the shadows along Victoria Street. It had a nice draw and force weight for effective high velocity. Plus, the recurve made the weapon silent; crucial for an ambush.

Then the battle at the gate would be easy…

Across from Ten Downing, on the rooftop, V rose behind sniper "A". Steel blade in his hand, he threw with such force the dagger embedded to the grip. The gunman fell at once.

He quietly rushed in behind the dead sniper and targeted the second sniper atop Ten Downing, by adjusting the range in the scope mount. The mask peered through the scope of the crossbow. At the same time, the mark on the other side looked through his own scope at V. A moment before the fatal shot. The silent arrow cut through the air and struck the sniper down behind the roof barricade.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Quaid leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the screen. Perhaps a hesitation before he made a decision. Perhaps he already made the decision and wished to prolong the foreplay. _And who would it be?_ Some unsuspecting government official on the other side of the earth occupied in peace negotiation? The elderly or infirm? Or maybe it's a more personal matter, one that can't be resolved by the mundane apology or pardon.

The general flicked his pinky nail with his thumb. The small snap was faint, yet still audible. He waited a moment maybe two, and then reached forward for the mark button.

A steely_ ring _pierced the silence and a blade pressed at his jugular. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Shhh." V whispered behind the mask that now invaded down in his personal space. "Habit forming, is it _not?_"

The general's eyes widened. He froze as one suddenly overcome by the finishing move of checkmate. He stayed still, for if he swallowed, it could mean death.

"What do you want?" He finally asked. His terror visible by the tiny beads of sweat that now formed on his forehead. V felt certain that a change of under shorts would be in order as well.

"_Where is she?"_ V demanded. The blade dug deeper.

"If you kill me, you'll never know." A slight smile escaped from that mouth that did not release the secret. The expression changed. He was more comfortable now, more _expecting_.

"Touché." The blade twisted. A light beam reflected on the white of the general's eye. "Don't think I've come for this little visit with no leverage. Your secrets will be common knowledge once I complete my work. I know all about your hidden agendas in your quest for sovereignty."

His blue eyes looked at V.

The masked man moved in closer and tilted his head. "That's right General."

"You can't prove anything."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so certain if I were _you_, General." The insignia on the general's uniform: stars encircled the lifeless image of a human profile, the eye a burst of light. V gestured at his chest. "Fitting for one so occupied by the workings of fear. Each time one corrupt government dies, another more lethal one takes its place. This may come as a surprise, but I've been expecting you General. Pity you can't stay longer. You see, I know all about your cleansings and your chemical sprays." V gestured at the Sweep Component. "I know about your plans to assassinate your own president. And who will be there to take his place?" He spoke softly and dug the edge deeper. _"You, _General_?"_ A thin stream of blood from a small puncture wound oozed down the dagger.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed hard into the side of V's neck.

The dagger went flying from his hand. He staggered and pulled out a needle, then dropped it to the floor. The room spun from the effect of the narcotic that now flowed through his veins. Another individual stood back and watch him swirl. V caught a glimpse of legs and feet before he hit the ground face up, where he lay sprawled and motionless.

"Good to see you Doctor." The general breathed heavily and favored the side of his neck checking his hand for blood. "He'd better not be harmed Doctor. For your sake."

"Oh, I can assure you he's feeling fine. Sleepy is the extent of it." Dr. Carl admitted and circled around to the side of the body.

Still stroking his neck, the general stood and gestured. "Let's see what's under his mask." He eyed the doctor.

Dr. Carl adjusted his glasses and kicked the needle away. He looked at Quaid.

"Go on, Doctor."

"Yes sir."

Carl knelt beside the mask; he vacillated, and then reached with both hands.

V grabbed the doctor's throat and squeezed.

Another dagger hit the general in the groin with a thud. Quaid buckled with a groan and fell into the chair.

V rose to his feet and held tight using the doctor to pull his weight.

Dr. Carl struggled for his air supply and grasped at the hand that would not let go. His feet lifted off the ground. Choking noises and gurgling came from his throat. He kicked as his face turned red then burgundy. The doctor's glasses went askew as something popped in his neck. The gloved hand released and the body fell as a marionette cut loose from a string.

V rushed to Quaid and grabbed hold of the dagger handle to suppress any ideas of retaliation. Blood poured onto the floor from the wound. He winced from the pain that ripped into his flesh.

"Now General." The room slanted. V almost lost his footing from the sedative. He shook it off.

A sudden all-important purpose came to mind. _Evey_. It renewed V with a vibrancy and energy to quell any hope or release for his prey.

The general shuddered.

"You're bleeding internally. That's why you're so cold. " The voice changed from a seething to one that mocked pity. "You're dying."

Then V reached into his tunic. "I have something for you."

General Quaid sighed and watched as V gently placed the bloom in his uniform. A Scarlet Carson. The marine did not yell out or scream, he only panted. His lips had lost some color and his eyes watered.

"One more call of duty before you die."

They turned their attention to the Sweep Component where its bright monitor waited for the next command. The general looked from the corner of his eye and a slight smile escaped his lips.

"Let's do some spring cleaning." V pushed the blade in hard and moved in. "_Shall we_?"

A grimace escaped the general's sweating face, quickly replaced by the enchanted gaze of one seduced by immeasurable power. "Who did you have in mind?" He toyed.

"Why, _your dogs_ of course." V trifled. "The whole _Brigade_." He said sternly and dug deeper.

A grunt escaped the general's mouth. He pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes holding back the pain. Then he opened them to continue on the Sweep Component. The general smiled as one intrigued by the task, happy to play with his deadly toy. He hasted the procedure, and keyed in the necessary commands.

Then he hit _mark_.

The Component collated the information as a band of green flashed across the screen.

_Sweep Complete. _

Weakened, General Quaid slumped back in his chair. V lifted him by the underarms and dragged him off the chair to the floor.

Face to face, the sneering mask hovered and watched his eyes glaze.

"Where is she?" V whispered again.

A few gasps and then a bright ironical smile crossed his lips once more. "She's in the morgue."

The sweep component beeped. Its exploiter raced out into the darkness undeterred by the component's survival, knowing that its very existence was a component; a small piece of something more encompassing.

Abandoned by his assailant, the general fixed his eyes on the Component. The pupils in those eyes dilated; the blue irises reflected the screen as the ruthless life passed from them.

The lambent blue letters and numbers that lit the screen now waited for the mark button. It blinked and waited for another command of death. It waited, but could not be satisfied.

It read:

Commissioned Military Personnel

IMS code number, 156V8300049H.

Hass.


	21. A Choice

CH21

Was it the power of those last words that blinded him, or was it the physical things in the universe, the dead things that lay scattered about the earth like toy soldiers stuck by friendly fire? For nothing moved, nothing except his heart, it seemed, and at this rapid pace it fleeted uncontrollable and caused him to see nothing, nothing except her face.

He stumbled across Westminster Bridge and ignored the sound of the water crashing against the banks underneath. A buoy rang in the distance, but her voice was the only sound he heard, it whistled in unison with the wind and called his name.

A fog slipped in low, it passed over a lifeless SSU guard and covered the secret beneath like a dead man's shroud, though not an adequate substitute, for it revealed the face of aguish when caught in the slightest gust. V advanced. Each soldier mimicked the one previous. Their petrified hands clutched for their tormented minds--struck by agonizing, instant death. Their bodies succumbed to the mud and mire of the hospital garden that the steady rain had left in its wake.

The circular pool that had once trickled with life and water now resembled a sanctuary for a lifeless soldier that hung over the side. His head submerged in the pool, may have drowned as an effort to quell the pain.

V's steady footsteps told a story of their own. They told the story of a man, a masked man, whose inner fear now demanded a victim. One look, just one. A lifeless stare of his Evey would cause him to fall prey to this absolute fear. His footsteps fell in constant rhythm as that fear tried to hold them back; a protection to postpone what he could not bear. Then his footsteps stopped.

St. Thomas Hospital rose huge before him, an empty black hull. Once a place of hope for the ill, now bared the resemblance of a necropolis or something from a nightmare. Someone had shut off the light, or maybe it was _something_. For anyone who could take his precious Evey, the life, the beauty, the innocence away from him, was not human. V stood with his legs apart, his cape rode the wind. He reached into his belt, whipped a dagger in each hand, and held them low with flexed arms to reveal the threat.

Eyes watched from somewhere inside the building. He didn't have to see, he knew they were there. The mask rose from underneath the Jacobean hat in acknowledgement; the grin was now something unholy, s_omething of a terror._

Across the garden, within the main entrance, the inner darkness loomed. He stormed inside in attack mode through the revolving doors into the reception area. To the right, the North Wing Gift Shop remained empty of any patrons, or at least any live ones, for dead soldiers inside the hospital seemed to double in amount. V stepped over them and went in further past the vacant information desk on his left. The faint emergency lighting flickered and afforded little. Shadows receded in dark corners everywhere, so he was careful to examine each possible hiding place.

The hospital morgue was on the basement floor. V swallowed hard. A lit sign read, "Lower Level" and there were steps that led downward. He went through a hallway and cautioned past multiple elevator doors. At any time, one of the doors could slide open and his assailant could burst through.

A sound echoed. V stopped. It was a small sound close by. He scanned the area, and satisfied that nothing but death lurked here, he rushed down the stairs. The landing opened to a passage that stretched in both directions. A set of swinging doors with a "No Admittance, Hospital Personnel Only" sign waited directly in front of him. _This must be it; this must be where they kept the bodies._ He hesitated, then pushed the doors open and wavered in.

The sound of a heartbeat drowned the stillness down here. _Was it his?_ He swallowed again; the tightness in his throat wouldn't go away. He almost lost his footing. Was it the narcotic that affected him or was it his heart that ached for the sight of her?

A lengthy passage distorted before him with doors on either side. In front of the first door, he turned the handle and entered a dark office, it was black inside, yet he could still make out the desk and furniture. Closing the door, he went for the next. V peered into a window along the hallway that showed the deceased laying on gurneys inside. The door read "Autopsy". He opened it.

In the small available light, V could make out over a dozen bodies covered with white sheets all lined in rows. He heard himself gasp under the mask, but he had to know, he had to. One by helpless one he pulled back the covers to reveal the faces. Some he recognized, at least two-- Inspector Finch and then…Dominic. He shut his eyes for a moment of silence. The others he did not know, but the task was not yet complete. He held his breath for another and reached for the cover.

Someone coughed, not in here, in the other room next to this one. _There it is again! _V bolted for the sound and stopped in the adjacent room doorway.

"Evey?"

"V?" Her low voice muted. "Is that you?" She scrambled.

"Evey! Evey! I'm here! You're alive!" His voice cracked as he put his mask against a cold steel door. "You're alive!" Evey was behind it, trapped in a cell once more. A rush of relief flushed though his body and he slid to his knees, his hat fell to the floor. She coughed deep and throaty. The rasping sound of her breathing frightened him.

"Evey, are you alright?"

"Oh, V!" she cried, "I should have done what you told me. I should have stayed and waited for you. It was an accident."

"Shh! Don't concern yourself with that now Evey my love." His gloved hands were flat on the door as if they could defy the laws of physics and touch her.

"It was so dark in that tunnel! I was so scared! I called out to you and I couldn't see anything! It was so black in there. Like death."

_Death? Yes, my beloved Evey, yes, it's like death, and I would have taken you there my love, I would have taken you there._

V surrendered and leaned his back against the door, his eyes shut tight. He would do anything to let her know the secrets of his life and death, of the things that he experienced. He wanted her to know them as well as he did. Fears release…_death_, all of it. He would have showed her everything.

Silence.

"V?"

"I'm here Evey."

"V, listen to me," she pleaded, "He's out there."

"_Who?"_

Just then, a laugh cackled though the hospital speaker system. No, it wasn't a laugh, it was more like the shake of a rattlesnake's tail. It seemed to echo from everywhere, _like he was listening._

"He's out there."

"Stay here, Evey." He said distracted, for he knew she wasn't going anywhere. "I'll come back for you."

"Be careful!"

He stood and put his hand out behind to silence her as he faced the enemy. A Marine, in all probability armed and trained in survival and combat, now daunted him. Four thousand marines seemed trivial now compared to the one that hid and mocked him in the shadows.

Through the entrance door of the autopsy lab, and out into the long corridor, V moved forward. Different office doors passed on either side of him. Dead soldiers grew in number down here as V looked into an office opening and understood the reason why.

Computers and communication systems, tracking equipment filled the room. Voices from the other side asked for a response, then hissed static between. The lack of life here could only have one meaning: there would be more SSU coming. They would never stop. The force would be much more powerful than before, a scourge that would sweep through England like no other, in pursuit of _them. _They didn't have long, a few hours.

More laughter.

The voice sounded closer. V rushed towards the laughter to a reception area and ambulance receiving dock. Cold air penetrated through light swing doors and shuffled papers on a desk, a telephone left off the hook made a busy signal. _He was here,_ as were more dead soldiers. Their bodies coiled and twisted in misery, with eyes rolled into the back of their heads. V pursued with caution, slower this time. This soldier was playing a game, waiting for something, a moment of disadvantage for his kill. Like any animal regarded as prey, this waiting, this expectation distracted V, and yet, it put him on alert. This marine had set the stage confusing the victim by roaring to the ground the way a lion would. _Clever. He's in here somewhere_.

Something crashed in the direction of the autopsy lab. An instant and V was again at the lab entrance. A metal pushcart lay on the lab floor turned over on its side, the instruments were scattered. V stepped over and went to the large metal door in front of the cell that held Evey. He removed the clip from the handle and pulled the heavy door.

Evey looked up at him from the floor. In this light, her face appeared pale and ashen.

"V." She cried as he bent down to hold her shivering half-naked body.

Her arms went around him as he removed his cape and wrapped it around her. V gestured his gloved finger in front of his mask, advising her to stay silent. He then lifted her and carried her out to the corridor. After looking both ways, they went toward the exit.

Evey's body stiffened. She shrieked. "V!"

V turned.

A corpse came alive on the floor and aimed a pistol. A shot fired.

They shifted to avoid the onslaught. Evey dropped to the ground as V whipped two daggers and flung them at the soldier, hitting him in the shoulder and forearm. The gun flew out of his hand. He cried out with a loud shrill. V raced over to the soldier and landed on top of him, pinning him to the floor. The two struggled. V gave the soldier two defeating blows to the head. He then lifted a dagger with both hands above and wavered.

It was the soldier's face that caught his attention, or the lack thereof. Blackened charred skin surrounded light blue eyes that stared at him with hatred. Pins and needles crawled up his spine as he wrestled within to remove the horror of this vision. V yelled out as he plunged the knife down into the marine with a power that brought instant death with it. Scurrying off the body, V sat and leaned against a wall while he caught his breath.

Evey lay on the floor with the cape draped over her. She appeared so fragile in the darkness. She smiled and then V crept to her.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

"We don't have very long Evey. We can't stay here." He carried her in his arms and secured the cape around her for warmth. With the detonator in his tunic, they ran up the stairs and then to the outside of the hospital entrance. V stopped for a moment, removed the detonator from his tunic, and dropped it on the grassy ground. With Evey in his arms, there was no way he could exercise his plan effectively. His vendetta still needed some finishing preparation.

Past the circular pool to a lush patch of ground, he laid Evey on her back. V then started back for the detonator, and noticed moisture on his tunic as he walked. Searching himself, he stopped to locate any wounds underneath his clothing; there was nothing, nothing on _him_.

He turned back at Evey's slumbering body a few meters away.

V raced over to her frantically searching and removing the cape as he cried out with irony. It was then he found the bullet hole. The bullet had gone into her abdomen through the other side, causing the massive amount of blood that soaked through the cape.

His head lifted again and looked toward the patchy grass where he dropped the detonator. A fleeting, a moment, just a moment. _His vendetta._ _No_. He couldn't forget it, the brilliant _idea _that he had to win, and yet, the thought of her kiss before he went down that darkened tunnel and the choices he made. He chose death over her--_he chose to die_. Then he danced with her once more and gazed into her eyes, marveling at how they captured the flickering candle light. His hand extended to her in that alley and the wonderment overpowered him. What would her love would be like? Her embrace, her touch…it lingered as if he could still feel its sensation. Her voice, _"I don't want you to die,"_ burned his heart with regret. That dreaded choice caused him to freeze once again, _his vendetta or his precious Evey, _for if he went for that detonator, she could die.

He bent down lifted her head with his hand and holding her in his arms and whispered, "Evey." _Stupid, stupid stupid!_

Her eyes opened to look at him, her expression conveyed understanding and knowledge. She smiled and opened her mouth to speak.

"No. Evey don't talk my love. It's my fault. I'm so sorry." He grimaced under the mask the tears stung his eyes. "I'm so sorry." He looked to the sky.

"It's like bricks in your stomach."

"What?" V moved in closer. Evey shook her head and the strength on her face told him not to fear.

"Mum said love. It's like bricks in your stomach." She smiled again and then closed her eyes and went slack.

"No. No. No." V held her close and rocked her.

He ripped his mask off wailing in frustration, kissing her soft skin to quench the longing and feel her warm face against his. "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me! EVEY!"

Enraged he picked her up and ran, carrying her to fight a different battle, an endless war that waged on and on with the greatest enemy of mankind, _death._


End file.
